oldwiseguy

[estrellami-1]

Ten Minutes

Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.

Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.

“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”

“I need you to pick me up.”

A pause. “Stevie?”

Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”

“My parents are in town.”

Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.

Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.

His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”

“A friend,” he says lightly.

“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.

“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”

Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”

“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”

“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”

“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”

“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”

“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”

Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”

“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”

“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.

He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”

He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”

The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”

“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.

He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”

“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”

Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[wonwoonlight]

when you're fighting and jeonghan takes things a little too far.

A/n: just some random words vomit. As always, idk what this is🫶🏻

You don't like fighting with Jeonghan because of obvious reasons. Then again, who actually likes fighting with their significant other?

But you don't like fighting with Jeonghan because it's eerie silence and cold shoulders. It's you two, the most hard headed people on the planet trying to outlast the other. It's a battle of pride and it always ends with you eventually giving in to his apology regardless of how upset you actually are.

Of course there are times when you're in the wrong. But you apologize pretty quickly when it's on you, unlike Jeonghan who deems it necessary to fight first and apologize later when you're even more upset than you initially were for obvious reasons.

You always give in because you love him and you don't like the fact that you're not talking to him.

Apparently, Jeonghan is a little too comfortable with that fact and he may have taken you a little for granted, pushing your buttons further even when you have sternly told him that you're not comfortable with the fact that he's meeting up with his ex-girlfriend that he dated for five long years–which is more time than the entirety of the period you've known Jeonghan to begin with.

Perhaps it comes from a place of insecurity. But the ex texts him out of nowhere at one in the morning, pretty much sober from the way she has texted him, and he’s ready to just okay-ed her invitation to join her in some pub because, apparently, she sounds sad and it seems like she needs someone to talk to. That he worries she might be by herself at this hour because, according to the information that you don't fucking need, she tends to be reckless at ungodly hours.

You offer to go with him, understanding where his worries might come from and is actually glad that he knows the world isn't kind to unsuspecting women, even more at these hours. A little proud also that he's trying to do something about it.

But Jeonghan, for some reason unknown to you, decides that you coming with him wouldn't be necessary. And the talk spirals much too far away to the point where he's annoyed and he's giving you an attitude about you not trusting him and et cetera et cetera.

"Fine." You give up, resigning yourself to the ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach. You can't even look at Jeonghan right now. You don't understand why the two of you are even fighting about this. Is it that important for him to go see his ex? Or are you really being as unreasonable as Jeonghan is trying to make you be? But you're upset and apparently that's not enough for Jeonghan to relent. "Whatever. Go if that's what you want."

"What–" He doesn't even get to finish his sentence, because you already turn away to return into your shared room, not minding whatever he might have to say. You never do this, and as much as it pains him to admit that he might've taken things a little too far, he didn't realize that it is to the point where you'll retort to this.

You don't even look up when he calls you, doesn't try to listen to whatever he has to say and simply acts like he doesn't exist. You'd usually at least react to what he has to say, but right now you don't even look like you're upset, which scares him even more.

He's been on the receiving ends of your silent treatments, which he actually admits is on him, but you would usually still look at him, still look like you're listening to him. Which is how he's always been able to make you forgive him.

He knows what to do when you're annoyed, when you're sad and upset. But this?

This is a new territory that he doesn't know how to thread. He'd usually ignore you back, a little too prideful and too childish to admit that he's wrong. But he can tell that this isn't like the usual silent treatment you've given him before.

Fine. A single word that's not fine at all and still rings in his head right now because you never sound like that.

Like you're done with him.

"Baby, please…"

You continue to ignore him, playing with your phone and obviously texting someone that he hopes isn't about him.

"I'm… I'm not going, okay? I'm sorry." He admits in record time. "I don't even… I'm sorry. I don't want to give excuses. I've upset you and I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

Jeonghan sees your fingers pause, which at least he presumes means you're listening to him. He kneels beside you on the bed, glad that you're not rejecting his presence. He reaches for your fingers, and you let him as he cradles them inside his palms and takes a deep breath.

"Don't…" He exhales before he opens his eyes, catching yours and breathes the next words like it's a secret. "Don't let go of me?"

"What?" You ask, startled and caught off guard at the sudden change of topic. "Where did you even get the idea? Han, I'm not breaking up with you."

"You just…" You pull his fingers, asking him to sit next to you on the bed which he immediately complies to. He buries himself in your neck almost immediately, and suddenly it's you comforting him instead of the other way around. "You sound done with me and I can't get that out of my head."

You sigh, your fingers combing through his hair to calm him down.

"We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"I love you too, Han."

He buries himself further into your embrace.

[subway-tolkien]

Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.

This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.

Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.

Listen. Listen.

Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.

But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.

Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.

S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.

Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.

(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).

Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.

But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.

[Stares in Voltron S8]

And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.

They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?

Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.

Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.

Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.

He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.

“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”

You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.

I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.

But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.

If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.

I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.

So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.

Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.

In the end, it all came down to love.

“There he is.”

Goodbye, Blackbeard.

Hello, Ed.

[tvxqmylove]

Let's raise our glasses to Izzy and OFMD creators

I just have to get it off my chest, I understand Izzy's death came as a shock and very upsetting event for many, and a lot of people are going on and on about how he deserved a better fate and how he was not just some tool to serve someone else's story. Please try to calm down and see the bigger picture. 

It is now clear that he was always meant to die. It was foreshadowed in the first minute of the second season, a ridiculous, villain's death. Being the symbolic obstacle to Stede and Ed's happiness. 

Of course that was the wrong way for him to go. When he confessed to his crush Blackbeard he got shot by him, almost died, begged to be killed, and then he even tried to kill himself. Still didn't work. It wasn’t his time yet and that was the wrong way for him to go. When he learned that he was loved and cared for after all, just not in the way he expected, he changed. He became positive, he became forgiving. Then he stopped being miserable he started genuinely wishing for the happiness of others as well, instead of being bitter about it. His death might not have a point but his life did. He had the crew's and Ed's and even Stede's back, and they knew it. As David Jenkins stated, he played the role of a wise mentor that was passing along his life experiences to others. Then it was his time. Also, as foreshadowed, he symbolically took away Blackbeard, and opened a way for Stede and Ed as well.

A happy ending is not only walking off to sunset with a lover, taking up a new job or walking into a house of your family and petting your dog before you close the door. A good death, and a life well-lived is a happy ending. Leaving behind people that loved you is a happy ending. This was a happy ending for him. 

He lived the way he wanted, as a pirate, an infamous one that has received respect and recognition. Then he resolved the parts of his life that became problematic and toxic, he repaired the relationships

that was broken, he forgave the people he needed to forgive. After going through hell, he was basically a bubble of positivity, going around giving solid advices, encouraging people and partying. He was done. He gave the best damn speech of his life at a bar like giving his own eulogy and it was awesome. He died at the arms of the person he loved the most. 

Yes he could have had more, everyone that ever died could have had more. But he died gracefully and complete, surrounded by people he loved and cared about, knowing that they will be fine. That was his story. I am sad that he died, but he died beautifully, best you can hope for in a pirate life. And he will live on, in the hearts of the people he touched by his existence. 

Finally, never harass the creators. It is their hard work that gave us Izzy in the first place. Trust their creative process, and afterwards take it or leave it, do not harass them and try to put them in a box of your personal demands. If so, what kind of 3rd season can we even expect?

[sanyu-thewitch05]

I’ve been always been obsessed with myths, legends, and fairytales. And one thing that always stood out to me was that how various cultures all seem to have tales about magical women bathing, a man spotting a particular one with interest, and then either marrying her, or dying/having some cursed downfall eventually. So…can I request a story like that…but with a twist of course. Male Yandere X Female Nymph Reader

So broad premise…Darling is a nymph (or some general magical maiden) bathing in a body of water, combing her otherworldly super long hair, and just living her best life. Yandere stumbles across her and starts to stalk her over the course of some time, falls in love with her, etc. But Darling has played this game many times before and thinks this is dumb schmuck nth, and continues her innocent/ignorant/helpless act, thinking that she’ll be able to lure this man to kill him in a few days (for food, riches, or something, idk). What she doesn’t know is that Yandere is a lot more smarter and is also putting on his own act in front of her. Cause the twist is that Yandere is partial/descendent magical creature of some sort, and thus Darling’s magic doesn’t work on him. (He’s also had training resistance against magics of sorts or something). Anyway…confrontation happens, Darling thinks she’s gonna successfully drown him, but Yandere reveals his true colors and does some ritual that binds the two of them together for eternity (like some f-ed up magical matrimony), and of course takes her away to some magical residence? (I don’t know what this man does for a living, nor what his home would be like since I want to leave up what partial/descendant magical creature he is to you) where he proceeds to consummate their eternal marriage. Cause in his head, a magical eternal chain isn’t enough…no this man needs to see lots of babies. The literal “fruits of his love.” (Forgive me…I like babies/pregnancy/breeding/baby trapping in Yanderes. That stuff makes me go feral). Can’t wait to see what magical children are produced from this union. LOL.

This idea just seemed fun to write about…two manipulative main characters, each thinking they have the upper hand. Sorry for the long post. Hope you can have fun with the story! <3

TW: Dubcon, Impregnation kink, drugging, forced marriage, blood,

Monday

Being a water nymph of mixed ancestry is one of your favorite things about yourself. Everyone expects you to be the helpful water nymph to help sailors from sirens. Little did they know that your dad was half-siren. Of course, he didn't show any traits because the gene that makes sirens sirens is on the second X chromosome. So when your half-mermaid-half-nymph mom had you and your five other sisters, every single one turned out to be sirens with the tail of a mermaid and the trustworthy face of a nymph.

The best part is that your innocent face helped you lure sailors. Everyone is warned to be suspicious of the woman with a beautiful face and an alluring voice. Nobody expects their angel of death to be a maiden who looks like they're supposed to help you. This earned you many new bones for decorations and combs. Along with many treasures to keep. Plus, the sea creatures let you live in an otherworldly part of the beach hidden away from humans in return for killing a few fishermen. It is truly the dream of a maiden of the sea.

"La, la, la!" You joke around, playfully singing to a romp of otters.

Your long, pastel, aquamarine, wavy hair blends in with the water. The seashells decorating your hair make it look like your personal halo. Your striking blue eyes look like they could pierce through anyone. Your long dusty lilac, coral, and beige tail swishes in the water.

"So, what should I do next?" You ask the otters, going deeper into the water.

The otters swim up to you, then stop. They all stare at something behind you. You turn around and see nothing. You can't help but roll your eyes. Every so often, some human man will come along and watch you. Then, he'll confess his love to you, hoping you'll be his mythical legend wife. You accept, bring him in for a kiss, then bite him on the jugular or drown him.

"Don't worry, I'll have him gone before the weekend," You whisper to your otters.

You go underwater and swim to your grotto for rest. Planning to kill men takes a lot of work.

Tuesday

You sleep until the morning sun shines through the water. You swim to your spot and do your daily routine.

"Let me the morning sun. So much stuff has to be done," You sing, moving your long hair out of the way to expose your bare breasts.

The old topless mermaid trick. The oldest one in the book and usually worked in luring men to their deaths. You pull yourself out of the water and transform into your human form. Your hair covers your naked backside, and you venture into the woods. You hear a branch move nearby and enact your plan.

"What pretty berries," You say, bending down to show your entire bottom and pussy.

More branches move, and you smirk to yourself. You pop a berry into your mouth, and suddenly, your memory goes blank. When you wake up, your body feels so tired you decide to return to your grotto for the day. When you reached the bed, your demeanor had changed from tired to horny. You couldn't help but pleasure yourself. Every nerve on your pussy felt alive when you stroked and fingered yourself. You were seeing stars and the Milky Way when you came. You fall asleep and transform into your mermaid form.

Wednesday

When you wake up, you swim to your spot again and brush your hair. You don't even notice you're not wearing a top. A flower blooms next to you with a golden comb with a letter.

To the sweetest maiden in the sea,

My love, I've been watching you for a long time. I love the way your being becomes one with nature. Though, you should be careful about what berries you eat. Eat too many random ones, and you might not come back.

Your admirer, L.

You laugh. The love letter is cute. So is the comb. But the flower trick really impressed you. You might get a mage's loot this time instead of some fishermen's or hunters. You brush your hair with the comb, and it shows its magical properties. The comb instantly made your wet hair wavy. Usually, it would take a couple of hours for your hair to get wavy after being in the water. You hum a song while combing your hair and sink into the water while relaxing. The branches rustle and twist into a tall, pale figure looking at you from the brush. You can't see its face. But you can tell it's a man. You wink, and you sink deeper into the water. Flowers bloom a path to the water's edge.

Thursday

You sing a siren's song to lure your suitor to his death faster. Nothing happens except the trees twisting, turning, and breaking. Some even bloomed flowers. When you open your eyes to see the chaos you've done, a hand that's disappearing is reaching out to you. You try to touch it, but it vanishes like it is magic. You groan in disappointment and swim out to sea hoping for something to entertain you.

Friday

Your admirer finally showed himself. He was waiting for you at your spot. His silver hair reached his back, and his skin was so pale it shimmered. His blue-green eyes were mesmerizing.

"Hello, my sweet," The man says, pulling you out of the water. "My name's Lochlan and you're going to be my wife."

"Of course," You lie, sweetly going into his arms.

He carries your merbody in his arms, and you bite him in the jugular. Blood splatters all over the grass. His body tumbles into the water, and you hold his head underwater. Lochlan's body finally stops moving, and you let him sink into the water. You dive in, preparing to rip him apart. You can't see his body. It's gone. A hand shoves some sort of berry paste down your throat, and you gag. He slips a silver ring with a blue gem on your finger.

"Did you seriously think I would die from that? I'm half-fae. I don't die easily," Lochlan says, dragging your merbody to the shore's edge.

Your body feels hot, and you want nothing more than to return to your grotto.

"Feel familiar? You ate the key ingredient in our aphrodisiacs," Lochlan states, holding your body as it transforms into its human form. "Don't worry, you'll feel better later."

His hand keeps a steady hand at teasing your pussy. Your watery home slowly disappearing. You can't take it anymore and cry until you pass out.

Saturday

"Ahh~" You moan, climaxing again from Lochlan's fingers.

"That's it, cum again," Lochlan coos, slowing down his pace as you cum.

Ever since Lochlan took you from your beach, he's been pleasuring you. Turns out that the ring he slipped onto your finger bound you to him as his wife forever. Or at least until he wishes to divorce. But that's not going to happen.

"Are you enjoying our honeymoon, my sweet? How does it feel to be Mrs. Caspian? The next queen of the sea fae," Lochlan asks, taking his fingers out of you and sticking his cock inside you. "I waited for you for so long. You even made a cute show of singing your song just for me. I admit it got to me, but I managed to teleport myself away before it was too late."

"Nessie!" You scream, taking his cock for the 5th time today.

"Keep calling me pet names based on the Lochness monster, and I'll breed you till your stomach bulges," Lochlan growls, thrusting faster and cumming into your pussy again. "I can't wait for you to have our babies. They'll be so powerful they could rule every portion of water on Earth."

Before your wedding ceremony, you were locked inside a room the size of a small closet with Lochland. In his culture, a bride and groom must whisper their secrets to each other, then into a conch shell. Then, the conch shell is sent to sea to start the marriage with no secrets. Though you didn't need to whisper your secrets into a conch shell. Your tears meeting a body of water would automatically send your pain through it.

"Just try it, my pretty pearl. A couple of whispers can't hurt. Besides, I want to start this marriage on the right track," Lochlan pleads, clasping your hands.

You relent and bring the shell to your lips.

"I wish I could be with my sisters and family. I wish I could see my precious otters again. I wish I never met him. I wish I never had to marry him!" You whisper, eventually turning into a yell.

Your yell vibrates through the shell, almost cracking it. Lochlan snatches the conch shell from you as you cry. He looks at you with pity and lets you weep on his chest. He brings the conch shell to his lips and whispers his secret.

"I want to be the best husband for my wife. Even if she hates me for eternity. I want to return to the sea to visit my mermaid mom and her family," Lochlan whispers, noticing you looking at him.

"If I marry you, will you return me to the sea with my family?" You ask, looking into his eyes.

"Of course. Anything for you."

And that's how you got to the present. You and Lochlan fucking in his private underwater palace near both of your families. It was a nice compromise and made you feel more at ease.

"I'm about to cum, Lochy!" You moan, feeling your legs about to give out.

"Me too, my pearl!" Lochlan screams, holding onto your hips tight.

You feel him cum in you one last time and fall to the bed. Lochlan falls on top of you and snuggles with you.

"I love you, my pearl," Lochlan pants, kissing your neck.

Sunday

Lochlan is sitting with you in bed and combing your hair.

"This comb really works wonders on your hair, my pearl," Lochlan compliments, enjoying the golden comb turning your hair into beautiful waves. "Are you doing ok? I know being pregnant in your mermaid form isn't easy."

"I'm fine, Loch. I'm really tired, though," You answer, rubbing your slightly big stomach.

It's been three months since you married Lochlan. Since your honeymoon, you've been pregnant with his kids. Admittedly, he's been a great husband and is making sure your pregnancy is going well. Not only that, but you've been able to see your family.

"Lochlan, can you get me some grouper? Maybe some lobster too? I'm having bad cravings."

"Of course, my sweet."

Lochlan leaves your bed and comes back with a plate of fish and lobster.

"I brought some extra lobster for you. Eat up. You and the babies need nutrients."

"You really care for them, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. A proper king should care for his queen and future heirs. Now, eat. You need to rest during this pregnancy."

Lochlan kisses your head and feeds you.

Headcanon post

[lxvebun]

Heart-shaped kisses. HSR edition ♡

buns notes I am not caught up with the game at all, literally just passed Gepards fight but thats not going to stop me. I hope you enjoy!

content Blade/Dan heng/Gepard/ Jing Yuan x gender neutral reader. Fluff. Kissing of course. Food consumption Gepards and jing yuan is a little long but I will not apologize. I know nothing of chess forgive me i tried to describe everything as vague as possible shsjs. Use of nickname love. Eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes. Not completely proofread

D c and ed blogs do not interact or your fave will never come home<3

All heart shaped kisses fics♡

⁎⁺˳✧༚Blade໒꒱.*

Every sweet touch of your lips to his feels like stars are awakening within his veins, Igniting a burning, irresistible hunger, a desire, to hold you closer and selfishly steal another sweet kiss, and then another, and then just one more<3, With no doubt in his heart, you are the closest thing to paradise he will ever experience in his lifetime, and he's going to indulge in it for as long as you're willing to stay.

Maybe you're the reason he's still here, to soften the sharp edges of his blade.

⁎⁺˳✧༚Dan Heng໒꒱.*

Kisses with Dan Heng always happen in private, under warm candlelight, and with only the stars as a witness. He completely melts into you, the weight on his shoulders disappearing just for a moment as his senses are completely enveloped by you, and the sweetness of your kisses and the warmth radiating from your skin from where his hands are resting on your cheeks, rubbing heart shapes into your skin and tilting your head just right to meet his lips. With your hearts beating in sync, he knows he has found his forever home<3

Gepard and jing yuan under the cut!

⁎⁺˳✧༚Gepard໒꒱.*

It's not until a few months into your relationship that you have your first proper kiss with him, not counting the ones you sneakily press to his cheek when he's distracted before scattering off or the soft forehead kisses he gives you in the early morning when you're still warmly tucked into bed and he (with pain in his heart) has to leave early >:(

''I want our first kiss to be special,'' he says quietly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as a nervous habit, trying his best to soothe the blush trailing its way to his cheeks. "If you don't mind" (He is so ficking cute I canfbehwhs) Of course you wouldn't mind it!

Every day his love and adoration for you blooms stronger, like vines in your name are wrapped around his heart and soul, evergrowing and ever consuming leaving no empty space. And this is exactly what he told you (after a little push from Serval) , under soft candlelight over the surprise dinner he prepared for you. Unlike a proper seating arrangement, you both sat next to each other on the same side of the table, enjoying the closeness of it all.

He's acting a little odd, a little nervous, it's hard to read but you can tell. It's not until after dessert that you figure out why his hands are shaking slightly and his eyes keep drifting off to your lips

''Permission to lean in? '' he whispers, lips hovering over yours and you're not quite sure if it's your heart that you hear beating so loudly or his.

''Permission granted. '' you reply back with a smile

His kisses are surprisingly strong, and any nervousness from the moments before completely vanishes as he eagerly leans in with enough power behind it to slightly make you lean back, one hand coming up to caress the back of your neck and the other one still holding yours. Strong as his kisses are they are nonteless loving and breathtaking, he's leaning into you like you're his personal source of oxygen. It's all a very cute contrast to when you both pull away and he's looking off to the side saying "I hope that was good" You answer him with another kiss<3

⁎⁺˳✧༚Jing Yuan໒꒱.*

You're not sure why you keep agreeing to this. Your mind is running through every possible outcome and he still manages to beat you. The pri-

"Oh, come on, love" You ignore the fluttering of your heart at the nickname. It seems like the little mental battle that was going on was evident on your face. Sitting before you across the chessboard, failing to hide his smirk behind his hands sits Jing Yuan, your biggest enemy, the bane of your existence, the secret crush and love of your life. " I promise I'm not stealing any pieces this time, you almost have me"

The little sparrow on your shoulders is trying its best to comfort you, rubbing his little head against your cheek and chirping so sweetly, that it's enough to make you willing to keep playing and move another one of your pieces.

Jing Yuan sends you a soft smile before his eyes trail down to study the board. You don't play with a time limit, so he's taking his time to calculate his next move. He didn't lie, you are very close to winning. And finally, you see that too, but you also see how there is an opening for jing yuan to get the upper hand again. You are trying your hardest not to roll your eyes at it, If only you could distract him, intervene with the on going calculation in his mind

Just as he picks up the exact piece you were fearing you quickly blurt out. " I want you to kiss me"

His movements slow and you can hear his breath hitch, his brain trying to catch up with your words and it's enough to make him misplace his piece. He look at you again, as you quickly move your pieces, winning the game. The sparrow on your shoulder fluttering around you in joy and the beautiful melody of your laugh echoing around him.

I win" you say proudly, too occupied with reveling in your victory, you don't hear him get up and move over next to you. close enough to feel his warmth, far enough to get up if you want. It's not until the sparrow that once sat on your shoulder flies past you to sit on his knee that you snap out of your victory haze

"jing yuan?"

"it's quite rude to say things you don't mean, love"

maybe it is the buzz of winning lingering and boosting your confidence because you have no clue where your next words come from

"who says I didn't mean it?"

with a small chuckle escaping his lips and a gentle smile on his face, he sends you one last nod, silently asking for permission, just to be sure, and quickly after receiving a nod back as confirmation, cupping your chin in his hands, thumb trailing along your jawline, pressing a feathery kiss to it and then locking your lips with his.

you let him take the lead, the one time you're fine with losing. The kiss is gentle and intoxicating, enough to make your head fog up with hearts and flowers and spread a delicious warmth all over your body. it takes a while for both of you to open your eyes after pulling away. it's Jing Yuan who breaks the silence. In a slightly flustered state he asks

"are you up for another round?"

"another kiss or another game?"

"whichever you prefer the most"

[ontologicalsynaesthesia]

It's so interesting to me that Izzy's suicide attempt wound heals very slowly, and leaves a big visible scar, in a show where characters regularly shrug off much worse injuries. You can even see it under his drag makeup:

Injuries in OFMD seem to have a physical impact on the character more or less in proportion to their psychological impact, regardless of how serious the wound should realistically be. In S1E4, Stede spends one episode injured after getting stabbed and hanged due to his hubris and incompetence, but then he's fine after hanging out with Ed for a while and getting some validation. In S1E6, Stede spends an entire night impaled on a sword, but he doesn't even seem to be in pain and suffers no lasting damage because it's not a psychological wound. And of course, in S2E3, Ed comes back to life more or less physically intact after realizing that Stede is there waiting for him, even though he should have been very, very dead after what the crew did to him.

But all of Izzy's injuries have a realistic impact on his body, in a way that isn't the case for any other character. I think some of that can be attributed to his Only Human In A Muppet Movie status, but it's also because of his uniquely fucked up relationship with Ed.

Ed causes all of Izzy's injuries, and I think they affect Izzy so permanently because of how deeply invested and dependent Izzy is on his relationship with Ed; his whole sense of self is bound up in it. Those wounds represent the toxicity of their relationship and how much it's damaged Izzy.

In contrast, when Izzy shoots Ed in the arm, the wound doesn't seem to stick around; we never see any evidence of it after that moment. Ed's actions have a far deeper impact on Izzy than Izzy's actions have on Ed, because there's always been an inequality in their relationship; Izzy cares about Ed much more than Ed cares about him, and that's the fundamental problem for Izzy.

Izzy post S2E4 has made a deliberate decision to move on from what happened between him and Ed, because it was so big and so awful that it's not the kind of thing he could either just forgive or ignore. And I think his Ed-induced suicide attempt was kind of the final straw; it's after that that he goes on deck and shoots Ed, which David Jenkins has described as Izzy "breaking up" with him. I don't think Izzy's stopped being in love with Ed, but he's stopped trying to influence his behavior as much, or even spend much time with him at all, and he's spending time with other characters instead.

But for all his change in behavior, every time he's on screen, we get a visual reminder of what happened, in both his leg and the scar on his face. Both are emphatically visible in the above scene, when Izzy and Stede are talking about Ed. It's a reminder of the impetus for Izzy's character arc this season, his relationship with Ed, and I think it's an indication that he hasn't fully healed psychologically, and probably never will. All he can do is keep moving forward.

[darkuselesssomebody]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 - slightly dark!steve murphy x reader

complete masterlist | navigation

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader parties a little too hard, and then gets the d.e.a. at her door.

a/n || this is for @toxicanonymity's boyd-a-thon fundraiser where $10 is donated to PCRF for every (up until 30 total) fic she gets about a Boyd Holbrook character. this is the link for more information on the writing event: boyd-a-thon!! I think it's so fun: building community, getting some great content and donating to a very worthy cause. if you're interested, please check them and the fundraiser out.

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider, please heed them

➵ technically ooc to steve in the show, and is set pre-connie, when he was working DEA in Florida.

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smutty/slightly dark

➵ !! reader is somewhat inebriated and is coaxed into compliance to a certain extent !!

➵ !! civilian/handcuffed criminal & officer power dynamic; ergo, abuse of power !!

➵ dubcon

➵ manhandling/cloth ripping

➵ abuse of power

➵ groping

she really wasn't the typical co-ed.

especially compared to her classmates, she tried so hard to stay away from the frat boys, the sweaty, horrible sex, and the copious amounts of substances. she'd promised her parents as much, and they'd threatened to otherwise cut off their support, so, she made sure to be as prim and proper as possible.

of course, she wasn't a nun. she drank, smoked if a cig was offered, had a few bad hook-ups, but come on. compared to everyone else? she was the virgin Mary.

and she'd told her parents as much, when they'd found out about her post-lecture activities.

unfortunately, that wasn't quite enough.

she had poured out her sorrows to her boyfriend- well, situationship - mark, as he kept instructing the bartender to pour her drinks, in the small, poorly lit, but quiet, bar.

"they won't pay my tuition or rent." she pouts, "I'll have to get an job, and then I won't be able to study - and then-" he shushes her with a sloppy kiss.

"you'll be fine." he assures, and she's just drunk enough not to realize he's saying that so he can get her into his bed faster.

it works, and, by one a.m., they'd gotten back to his, had sex, and she'd passed out. he wasn't a heartless bastard, though, he makes her some breakfast the next morning, and finally, properly, listens to her woes.

"i'm just so stressed. and I dunno if they'll - well… forgive me." she groans, rubbing her temples. he sighs, looking across at her contemplatively.

"you know what you need?" he muses, "to relax. thank god spring break is coming up, we should go somewhere." he suggests, squeezing her hand.

"somewhere? mark, the only place I can afford is the local diner." she scoffs, making him laugh, rolling his eyes.

"i'll pay for you." she blinks, looking up at him curiously.

"what?" she knew he came from a pretty well-off family, but that was a pretty big gift.

"yeah, c'mon. you've been such a recluse the last 2 years, s'what your friends say. let's go to Miami beach, hmm?" he smiles, hugging her as he noses up her neck. her face flushes, going warm.

"mi-miami b-beach? are you kidding me, mark? that's not you being good to me, that's - so expensive." he laughs at her worry.

"you're worth it." that makes her smile, "gotta make my girl feel better, right? besides…" his voice quietens conspiratorially, "I wanna finally corrupt you." laughing, she swats at his hands.

"corrupt? mark!" her tone is scolding, but it does little to deter mark.

"live a little, baby." he hums into her neck.

her face grows hotter.

"whatever you say."

--

miami was one of the warmest places she'd been to. always with a thin sheet of sweat, and always with one of those gimmicky, hand-held fans, she kept a firm hand in mark's to avoid the scammers, and worse, the creeps. he laughs at her apprehension, helping her into the taxi to their hotel.

it was small, with just a simple bed, but mark assured her it's fine because they'd hardly be there anyways. she wondered what that meant.

she immediately found out what it meant, that night, when mark drags her to one of the massive parties held at the nearby clubs and at the beaches. surrounded by primarily college students, mark keeps a hand on her hips as they navigate the party. "get a drink?" he shouts over the music and chatter, and she nods, pressed against him so she doesn't get lost.

she gets something with ice, not really caring about the actual drink - just needing to cool off. mark sways to the music, holding her close, and she giggles as he tries to get her to dance with him.

"c'mon, baby, loosen up." she pouts.

"I don't wanna sweat, mark." he laughs, wiggling his eyebrows.

"that's the whole point. besides, I'll have you sweating by morning, anyways." his tone drips with innuendo, and she rolls her eyes playfully, pushing away his face. he evades, dipping his head and playfully biting her jaw, making her squeak.

"loosen up." he insists, and she giggles.

"fine."

the night went on for way too long. after one drink, she started dancing with mark. after two, they started making friends. after three, they got invited to someone's hotel room, where she's already a little woozy from the alcohol and heat.

"you wanna try something?" mark asks, leading her into the hotel bathroom, and locking the door, "scored some nice shit for us." he grins, fishing a baggie from his pocket. her eyes widen in slight horror and significant shock.

"what the hell, mark?" she mumbles, lips a little numb, but he dismisses her with a wave of his hand.

"it's fine, baby, loosen up." she looks at him indignantly.

"it's not fine, mark! isn't it really addictive? and really illegal?" she hisses, voice lowered out of worry someone outside will hear them. he rolls her eyes.

"baby, I've been on this stuff with sophomore year, and you didn't even know. s'not that addictive, and you just gotta be a little careful. that's what you got me for." he pulls her into him, both of them leaning on the sink counter. "besides… you gonna rat me out?" he jokes, making her cheeks warm.

"no…" she murmurs meekly. he kisses her cheek.

"good! then we won't get in trouble. you trust me, right baby?" his voice has just that perfect mix of pleading and reassurance, and she sighs.

"yes."

"atta girl! you're in for the night of your life."

it wasn't the night of her life, it was a whole week. every day was the same routine, late morning with a greasy breakfast to combat the hangover, afternoon at the beach, early dinner, and the trawling for a party. they'd drink, dance, and then find a bathroom to fuck in, which wasn't too different than what they did on normal weekends, but this week, she had the added intake of coke to sustain the lifestyle.

it was euphoric, and unlike any experience she'd have. a little gross, what with the snorting, but mark wasn't too bad with the aftercare. he never told her where he got his supply, and she never asked. who'd she tell, right?

at least, that's what she figured until the party they were at got raided by the d.e.a. she squeals in shock as she hears the harsh shouts of some officers, and mark is quick to press his hand tightly over her mouth, pressing a finger to his lips to motion her to shut the fuck up.

he slowly readjusts her skirt to place it back above her hips, but it's a shoddy job, and they breathe into each other's mouths as they wait in silence, hoping the locked door will be inconspicuous enough that they can't get caught.

unfortunately not.

a sharp knock on the door makes her jolt again, mind already a little fuzzy from the start of the party, and the voice that accompanies it is as intimidating as she'd imagined.

"d.e.a., open up!" they command. she goes to comply, but mark immediately pulls her back, gripping her hard enough to hurt, making her eyes widen in shock. he looks at her with eyes saying what the fuck are you thinking?! and she looks back with i'm scared. the knocks don't stop, "want me to break this damn door down?" the voice threatens, and mark grits his teeth in annoyance as he secedes, unlocking the door.

a man - built, taller than her, maybe mark's height - with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, raises an amused brow at the pair.

"look who we have here, brady." he tilts his head to call for his partner, who comes clambering back into the room, whistling in excitement.

"yeah, they'll do. c'mon, you two." he gestures mark and her to walk out, "we need to have a few words."

--

she was now sitting in the back of a cop car, handcuffed, feeling tears brimming in her eyes.

after handcuffing the two, steve and brady had flipped a coin to decide who got to interrogate the pretty little thing, and who got the dweeby boyfriend. brady's luck was really not on his side this week - even his cards had been screwing his over on his nights - and he rolled his eyes as he, rather forcefully, shoved mark in a patrol car.

steve grinned as he opened her door for her - almost like a gentleman - making sure she was nicely settled before starting the ignition.

she wasn't hurt, sure, but god, was she scared. she was always such a good girl - and she'd just gotten arrested?! halfway across the country, while on vacation?! she felt like a complete idiot, and she was starting to feel pretty bitter towards mark for even roping her into this.

her lip had quivered as she heard steve talking about his eta to the station, and she was now dejectedly tearing up at the thought of having this on her record.

she's a good girl.

that was what she was telling herself, and what steve was gleefully realizing, as he glanced back at her in the rearview mirror.

"y'ain't been caught up in this kinda stuff before, have ya?" he finally breaks the near-silence, and it makes her glance up at the little dit of his profile she can discern in the dark car.

"n-no, officer." she finally stutters out, throat dry. he notices, passing her some water.

"hot as a bitch, ain't it?" he hums, tone friendly, and it makes her soften as she gulps the liquid down.

"yeah… it is." there's another moment of silence, before she realizes they're coming to a stop. at a pretty abandoned street corner. she looks around, confused, before she sees steve turning in his seat to face her.

"why don't you an' I have a li'l chat right here, darlin'?" he proposes, and she immediately tenses in discomfort.

"wh… why not at the station?" he laughs, a little breathily.

"why would I go all the way to the station, when you can tell me what ya know right here, right now, without worrying yer pretty little head about yer record. ya do know coke abuse, now, that's a pretty serious crime, darlin'." he drawls, eyes grazing over her body. she bites her lip.

to have no real record of this? that would be amazing…

"um… okay? I guess, what - what did you wanna ask me?" she doesn't know if she can meet his eyes. it makes her core pulse.

"now, you don't look like you were the one gettin' those goodies. who was givin' 'em to ya, hmm?"

"my - uh…" she inhales sharply, unsure if she can rat out mark. she really doesn't want to; he's good to her. most of the time. "some guy at the party." it's not technically a lie, which makes steve scoff more pronounced.

"it was yer friend, darlin'. or was it boyfriend? based on that li'l bathroom debacle, seems like he's yer boyfriend." he teases.

her cheeks heat, flush obvious even though he can hardly make out her face, just from her shifting alone. why was she suddenly so shy about the label?

"it's not really like that…" and why is she trying to assure this officer that she's not taken?

"yeah, darlin', s'what I figured - after all, you're name's spillin' out of his mouth accordin' to my partner." her eyes widen in horror.

"wait, what?!"

"yeah, that's what he's sayin' - that ya went out back and then came in with a baggie." steve has to hide his smile, because he almost adores the little look on her face which tries - and fails - to conceal her conflicting emotions of betrayal, disgust and confusion. steve knows just why - mark probably isn't that type of guy. and Steve knows that, cause he just made that little tidbit up, "so, what's it gonna be, darlin'? i'd definitely have to take you in if my only talkin' witness says yer the culprit."

her eyes sting with frustration and fear, and small whimper of discomfort bubbles in her throat.

"fine, fine. it was him, he's been buying coke for most of the past few nights. but I don't know where he gets it from." she insists, deflating a little in the backseat. that causes steve to wave his hand dismissively.

"ain't gotta be worried 'bout that, darlin', he can rat out his own friends." he assures, before humming in satisfaction, "see? now, was that so hard?" his drawl is condescending, and she picks at a hangnail. "yer a good girl, darlin', ya shouldn't protect guys like that." he assures, nonchalantly tugging her fingers away from each other so she doesn't continue the fidget-y, destructive behavior. "what's he even got goin' fer ya fer ya t'wanna save his ass?" he muses, a predatory smile on his face. she thinks it looks cruel.

"he's not a bad guy, he's not some drug lord, he's just gotten too caught up in all-"

"s'he yer man?" he cuts through her timid explanations. he's asking again, with a direct purpose this time. "girl like you… he wouldn't know a damn thing 'bout handling ya." he teases, hands moving down from where he's keeping her fingers from picking at themselves, and onto her knees that poked out, bare, under her short, somewhat flowy dress. "ain't I right, darlin'? he could never treat ya right, could he?"

she stills in utterly shock, before sliding her ass back until it slammed the backrest, effectively jolting away from him. "what are you doing?!" she gasps, and it makes him grip her knees harder, pulling her towards him.

"s'okay, m'jus' talkin' ta ya, darlin'." he assures, thumbs rubbing circles into her skin to soothe her. it hardly works, and she feels a paradoxical discomfort in her throat and arousal between her legs. "answer me, then. he treat ya like ya deserve?"

her breath hitches, "I - i don't know what that means-" she admits, too flustered to even let out a coherent thought. he tuts in disappointment.

"then he's a bigger bastard than I thought. not worshippin' a girl like you…" he goes quiet, before a throaty groan leaves him. "it's a cryin', fuckin' shame." he grips her thighs so tightly that she winces, and the little noise is enough to make him go crazy. before she can process, he's out of the front seat, and climbing next to her in the back. her hands are stiff cuffed, and it allows him to move her body easily to be pressed against the opposite door, giving him plenty of room to slide in. "ya wanna have a real man, darlin'? tha's wha' it is? these fuckin' college boys should know better than to disappoint ya, huh - tryna play with the big boys with that li'l baggie you were snortin'?" his words are rough, heavy, fast and overlapping, and she's quickly overwhelmed purely by his presence. his mouth is on hers before she can stop him, but it doesn't exactly seem to him that she would have - the way her lips press back against his hungrily and her tongue flicks out curiously.

a soft moan escapes her, and he grabs the collar of the low-cut dress, ripping it straight down her middle. "oh my god-!" she tries to gasp, but his bruising kiss shuts her up as he gropes her breasts hard enough to make her whimper and squirm.

"thatta girl, wanna li'l rough lovin'?" his eyes are wild and ecstatic, looking down at her as he pants in anticipation. he slowly begins to undo his shirt, and her eyes widen as she follows the movement of his deft fingers down his button-up, greedily savoring the slivers of skin that are exposed underneath. he finally pulls it off, lean body more defined in the dim light of the back alley, shadows accentuating the curves of his biceps, as he places his hands on the door either side of her face, leaning down to mouth at her neck.

for a moment, it's romantic, and then, it's desperate. the taut skin of her neck is the meal to his starved kisses and bites, painful and arousing nibbles trailing down her neck and the newly exposed skin of her chest from where he'd ripped her dress.

"officer, wait-" he presses a hand quickly over her mouth - with the reflexes of a trained law enforcement agent - and the protest dies in her throat. she's almost grateful - she would have sounded like a right hypocrite when she inevitably moaned during her attempt at protest.

"don't ya say a word, darlin'. just stay sittin' pretty for me, hmm?" his voice is so rough that it's almost mean, but she nods obediently, letting him work his way down her body. she gasps as his tongue darts out and flicks once at the elastic of her underwear, body jittering in anticipation and needs.

"Murphy, come in." the crackle of his police radio snaps them both from their pleasure, and the both whip their heads to look at it. steve looks like he wants to murder something, blue balls making his muscles twitch. when he goes to ignore it and continue enjoying his lovely company, he has to resist the urge to shoot his partner when brady speaks again, "come in, murph, he gave us a lead on the supplier. they want us on it, now." steve thinks maybe he should finally get into that meditation bullshit.

he slams the car door shut as he gets out of the backseat, leg bouncing in annoyance and need. he lights a cigarette, before picking up the radio. "brady, I hear ya. we'll be there in 10." he clambers back into the car, slowly driving out of the alleyway, tapping on the steering wheel, antsy. realizing he's still taking her to the station, she exclaims an incredulous 'what?!'

"wait, but you said-"

"no one's gonna know about yer fuckin' drugs." he snaps, a scowl on his face. he glances at her nude body only lightly contoured with the scrappy fabric of her dress. he throws his jacket back her to cover herself up.

"then why am I coming with you?" she asks in a soft voice, more reserved and less emotional.

"you're gonna sit in my office, and wait till I get back from that bust, ya got that darlin'?" her eyes widen in shock, but the harsh look in his eyes tells her not to argue. the pulse in her core also reminds her of it.

"yes, officer." she mumbles.

"good girl."

[carriedawatermelon]

Ronance kinktober, the third. Heads up, this is basically just a Nancy Wheeler character study. I love her so deeply, and she deserves so much and I got to writing and suddenly there was >4k words of Nancy Wheeler learning to forgive herself and want things. There is Barb, there is comphet, there is angst, and then, of course, there is Ronance and soft filth. It's a happy story except for the ways we know it isn't.

Prompt: Virginity (very loose interpretation, as I am wont)

Nancy spent most of her life before Barb died doing exactly what she was supposed to do. She was a great student. She was a disciplined dancer. She watched her younger siblings when her parents asked and she passed her driver’s permit test the first time because she followed every direction she got in driver’s ed. Her makeup was present but not overdone; her clothes were ironed and organized; her socks matched and her nails, if painted, were never allowed to chip, the color rubbed away at the first sign of mess. 

She thought for a long time that Steve had been her first rebellion, with his roguish smile and his wandering hands. She’d felt a little thrill in her stomach when she let him kiss her, let him crawl through her window, felt his eyes on her body in a way that wasn’t friendly at all. She’d felt brave when she shotgunned that beer, like an adult when she’d pulled her sweater off and offered herself to him. She wasn’t supposed to do that. She wasn’t supposed to do that, but she did it anyway. 

And then, of course, it all made sense, everything that followed after. Nancy had been bad, had done bad things, and Barb had suffered. People suffer, when you act badly. She’d known that. She’d been taught that her whole life, in Sunday school and during sermons, before her parents found the social capital gained from a church pew didn’t justify the time lost. In other ways, too, though. Nancy didn’t finish her homework ahead of time? Holly had to play alone when she babysat. Nancy stayed up reading and overslept? Her dad was worse than ever before he left for work, angry that her mom was busy getting Mike and Holly up the way Nancy usually did instead of making breakfast. Nancy ate a second cookie while she put the dishes away? There were only three left when the boys took a break from their game, and Will Byers went without, saying he didn’t want one anyway, when the others went to rock, paper, scissors for it. 

All of the rest of it, her name on the marquee, her unhappiness with Steve and then with Jon, Vecna and the visions of Barb—Nancy had strayed and had never quite come back and so of course things were never quite right. There was an itch under her skin because she’d put it there, and it was hers to bear. 

Hers and Jon’s, she realized one day, and the next made sure it wasn’t any longer. Selfish, the little voice in her mind, run through with strands of Vecna, whispered. And maybe it was, but also it wasn’t. He deserved better. 

You do, too. And this voice was run through with strands of Barb, fierce and firmly on her side, appearing more and more since Nancy had sawed off the end of a shotgun and marched into hell. So don’t, it had told her when she felt too tired to drive to Jon’s after a volunteer shift. Eat it, it had told her when she opened the freezer for ice and found her mom had gotten rocky road, felt a pang of want and a familiar sense of shame. You don’t have to do this, it had whispered gently as she wandered away into her mind when Jon’s hands reached under her shirt. 

The parts of her that had always been hard to wrangle had become almost impossible to get back into line, and on her own for the first time since she was fifteen, that ever-louder part of herself wondered, why should they have to? The itch remained, but it was different, a kind of challenge. Why? It asked. Why, why, why? 

When the anniversary of Barb’s death rolls around during her first semester away, the familiar waves of guilt and shame and grief rolling over her, something new happens. Why do you think this was your fault? And suddenly, I did a bad thing can’t carry the weight she’s been trying to make it bear. I made the choice to go upstairs. I left you alone. I slept with him.

A monster from another dimension stole me, Nancy. 

You cried out for me. You cried out for me and I wasn’t there. You were scared and confused and I wasn’t there.

Of course you weren’t there. Because I was sitting on the diving board at Steve Harrington’s house and a monster took me into hell. We were sixteen, Nancy. I was sitting by the pool. 

It’s not right. It’s not right. It’s not right. 

No. It’s not right. That doesn’t make it your fault. You’re too smart for that. 

You’re stuck in that pool. You’re still sixteen and you’re stuck in that pool. What am I…how do I…how am I supposed to know that and be okay?

Nancy. I’m gone, remember. Gone. He doesn’t have me. Not anymore. 

It’s all Barb. So thoroughly Barb, so perfectly, fully her, and Nancy’s sobbing, grasping at her comforter and trying how to remember to breathe. Because what happens when she forgets what that means? Barb is gone, and Nancy has to keep her, and what happens when the time she’s been gone is longer than the time she was here? What happens when Nancy’s memory can’t hold her the way she deserves to be held? 

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’re gone. I miss you. I miss you. I don’t know how…I don’t know how to understand.

Well, duh. I was taken by a monster. Have you been listening? There’s no understanding that. But understand this: My life wasn’t a tax. Don’t let yours be a punishment. Be mad at the right people, if you need to be mad. But Nancy, it wasn’t your fault. 

Something in her cracks open, and she cries for Barb, and for herself, in a whole new way. 

She is angry, she finds. And she’s been angry at them before—at the Hawkins Police for writing her off, writing Barb off; at the feds and the Russians and all of them who looked at El and saw not a little girl but a tool to be used; at her father and her mom and the rest of the adults who’d pulled wool over their eyes while their children nearly died, again and again. But she’s never let herself consider how all of those things had mattered before, how Nancy, sixteen and trying so hard to be everything everyone expected her to be, might not have been responsible for her best friend’s death. 

The guilt’s not gone, but it feels different, and she feels different, and it’s strange, in a good way, to start letting herself exist more easily. The voice begins to give affirmations, not just permission, Nancy reaching for what she wants on instinct sometimes. 

It’s not the voice, but Nancy, that thinks, not for the first time, she’s handsome, when she and Robin and Steve are sprawled in Steve’s living room one summer afternoon. Nancy’s back from Emerson, and she’s staying back, a transfer acceptance from Northwestern bringing such relief that she’d cried happy tears over her lit paper and had to type it again. 

Not the first time she’s had the thought, not the hundredth, probably, if she’s honest about the last two months, but it is the first time that the voice answers, with the casual kind of challenge that makes Nancy’s competitive side flare, that makes her the worst kind of friend to have on board game night. So do something about it. 

She does, two nights later, Steve on a date while she and Robin are propped against the sofa in her basement, watching Star Wars on the set her dad brought down when he brought home the new one a few months ago. The tape had already been in and it's background noise anyway, the two of them talking through it from the start. 

Robin’s head is leaned against the sofa cushion, facing Nancy, and she’s laughing, because Nancy made her laugh, and it feels exactly right to say, “You’re very handsome.”

It feels exactly right to reach over and touch her blushing cheek. It feels better than she could’ve imagined to hear Robin, shaky but with her eyes locked on Nancy, say, “You’re beautiful. I’ve spent the whole night thinking that. I spend most nights thinking that, if we’re being honest.”

“We’re being honest,” Nancy responds, bringing herself closer, moving her hand to cup her face, to run a thumb over her cheekbone. “I want to kiss you. I’d like to do something about that.”

Robin closes the distance, bright blue eyes fluttering shut just before their lips touch, and Nancy follows suit, letting herself fall into the feeling of it, the taste of Milk Duds and the waxy press of chapstick, the smooth line of Robin’s jaw, so different and so right. It’s innocent, and it stays that way, Robin holding her while they keep kissing and talking until Steve’s calls to say he’s not bringing the girl home and he’s on his way. She blushes as Nancy kisses her at the basement door, and Nancy presses a kiss to the blush, too. 

“See you tomorrow,” she says, voice rasping in the way that makes Nancy want to swallow it. They’ve got a date, a real one, at the drive-in.

“See you tomorrow,” she echoes, and when the door closes, she floats upstairs and into her bedroom, crawling into her bed with a feeling so foreign she’s not sure what to do with it. 

Oh, she thinks, grasping for truth in the dark. Oh. And suddenly the stories she told herself about Steve and about Jonathan come tumbling down again. Because she thought it had been rebellion, pulling her sweater over her head in Steve’s room, pushing her hesitations and nerves to the side as nothing more than prissy barriers. She thought it had been Nancy off the beaten path, finding Jonathan in the dark at Murray’s, letting his hands strip her and his body cover hers. It had been wrong, to let them touch her. So of course it had felt that way, too. 

Except. Except. 

She’s crying, big, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. How long have I been letting other people tell me what I want? She feels so silly, so small, dirty, in a way she never has before. Rebellion? She’s shaking, feeling want in her body, feeling in her body, and god, god, god. 

You’re okay. You’re okay. You’ll be okay. 

I’m so stupid.

Barb doesn’t answer, because Nancy doesn’t know how. 

Robin can tell something’s wrong, because she knows Nancy, has known her for years now, and Nancy doesn’t want to keep this from her anyway. 

“It’s not you,” she says, when she sees the doubt shining in Robin’s eyes. “It’s how much I want you.” Her voice is quieter. “I feel…I don’t know. I feel dumb. For not knowing. For…”

“I’ve got an idea,” Robin says, voice soft and hand over Nancy’s, and Nancy keeps learning what it means to want. 

Instead of the drive-in, they get milkshakes to go, and they drive a few miles past the town line, to the state park up the river, a spot Robin knows. 

Nancy’s driving, because Robin doesn’t take the test for a few more weeks, the sky blue truck she’s bought still not quite ready for the road. “I wanna take the test in my own car,” she’d said, excited, when she’d showed it to Nancy their first week back in town, and Nancy had watched her in her undone overalls in the morning summer sun and thought handsome for the first time. 

She apologizes again, hand holding Nancy’s over the console, and Nancy smiles at her. “You’ll be driving us around soon enough,” she says, fondness obvious, and the way Robin looks at her has her stomach in her throat. 

Milkshakes mostly finished on the drive, they spread a blanket over a big rock, lay back together and look at the stars. 

“I think I’m a homosexual,” Nancy says, fingers tight in Robin’s on the blanket between them. Robin waits, which makes Nancy want to kiss her, because she knows waiting isn’t Robin’s default mode. She forces herself to keep going. “I slept with Steve. I slept with Jonathan. I thought I wanted it. It’s not like…they didn’t force themselves on me, or anything. I…I asked them to…to touch me. Sometimes.”

Robin’s looking at her when she turns her head, blue eyes glinting in the full moon, and she’s got a small smile on her face, like she’s there, like she’s listening. 

“Is it weird…to talk to you about this? About Steve?”

“Only if it’s weird for you,” Robin says, after long enough that Nancy knows she’s really thought about it. “This isn’t about him. I’m not thinking about him.”

“Thank you,” Nancy whispers, and then keeps going at the squeeze of Robin’s fingers, the tick at the corner of her mouth. “I want you,” she says, like it’s a fact. Because it is, right now. It’s a fact she can’t quite process. “I want you in a way that I never wanted them. And I don’t…I feel so stupid, because I let them…I told myself I wanted…” She shakes her head at Robin, because she’s lost, now.

“You’re not stupid, Nancy.” She’s soft, in a way that Nancy thinks might just be for her, for them. “You’re the smartest person I know. And the bravest. You’re not stupid, okay? I’m gonna…the rest of it, I think maybe I have…but I just need you to hear that first, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, and hears Barb, distantly. She’s right. And you should listen. 

“There’s…okay hear me out. I know I can, um, I know books don’t like, fix everything.”

“Robin,” Nancy says, fond, because Robin’s hedging for someone other than Nancy, and Nancy’s the only one here. 

“Right, yeah, sorry.” She brings Nancy’s hand to her mouth and kisses her knuckles, does it so casually that it makes Nancy’s breath stutter, but Robin’s already going again. “There’s an essay. By Adrienne Rich. We read it in my women’s book club, and I’ll bring it to you. But she has this idea, this theory. Not just her, and there's more to it than this, but like." She sighs, says quietly, "Okay, Robin. Not important right now." Her voice raises again, and Nancy is going to have to get used to the surprise of desire, apparently, the way it can swirl softly with affection. "She has this idea that we’re all sort of, born into these expectations, and it’s really hard to break out of them. Compulsory heterosexuality. Women are expected to make their lives about men. To love men. That’s the sort of, that’s the default, or whatever. A girl is born, and the world says to her, welcome, girl, here are the men you should care for.”

Nancy processes, says, nervous, “But it doesn’t…I chose to…to be with them.”

Robin nods and hums. “Yeah. Yes. It’s not…it’s not that you’re suddenly, like, a puppet, or something. It’s more like…like, there were expectations, right? Even if they were never said out loud. Like nobody ever had to tell you that you should want a boyfriend or wanna get married, or whatever. That you should make those things part of your life. Except everybody was actually telling you that all the time. Without saying it out loud.”

“Oh,” she says, caught in the memory of her frustration at Barb’s unwillingness to just go along, at the chafe of her insistence on being different. 

“Yeah?” Robin’s blinking at her, curious. At Nancy’s nod, she keeps going. “So then, like, how are you supposed to imagine anything different? How are you supposed to know you can want something else?”

“You knew,” Nancy whispers. “And I knew you. I knew…I knew homosexuals existed.”

“Sure,” Robin says, crooked smile fully in place. “But what did you know? Before you knew me, you probably knew, what? That gay men existed? That they lived somewhere, in big cities? Doing theater? Or that they…” She frowns. “That they were dying, somehow? From being gay?” Her fingers tighten around Nancy’s again, her face drawn. “And what did you know about me? That I was different. That I was scared. That I had to leave Hawkins to feel like I could really be myself and not get the shit beat out of me or worse by Tommy H or some other goon at the gas station. And then I come back looking like this. Like your dad’s worst nightmare come to prey on his little girl.”

Nancy can’t help it, then, anger and sadness and a snarling protectiveness taking her over. She moves, and Robin sees her, smiles softly and opens her arm in invitation. She looks a little surprised when Nancy shakes her head, spreads her own arm wide and pulls Robin into her chest.

“Okay?” Nancy says, feeling right, right, right, with Robin resting on her, her fingers running through short locks. 

“Yeah. Yeah,” she laughs. “More than okay. God, that feels good.”

“You’re exactly what I want.” It’s firm and true, and Robin’s hand splays over her ribs in response. “And I want you very badly.”

“Well, fuck, Nancy.” Robin’s voice is half-teasing, half-something else. Something breathy and real that has Nancy’s brain running wild. “I want you, too. Badly.” Her thumb moves, smoothing at Nancy’s shirt over her rib, just under the wire of her bra. “Are you…does that, um, feel familiar? The Rich stuff? There’s more to it. And I’ll…I can bring you like a stupid stack of stuff to read, if you want, but no pressure, you know. I just, um, reading helps me understand myself, sometimes. And it felt like maybe this could…maybe this might be useful, to you?”

“It is.” She bends to press a kiss to the top of Robin’s head, because she wants to and she can. “Thank you. Really.”  “I’m glad.” 

She presses up, looking down at Nancy with a questioning smile, and Nancy rolls her eyes and pulls her down by the front of her t-shirt. 

“Come here, Buckley.” 

The kiss is just as good as last night’s, better, even, because Robin’s body above hers is warm and firm and she lets the kiss deepen, tongue pressing into Robin’s mouth and hands holding at her waist, exploring her back and spreading over her shoulders. Her leg slots between Nancy’s and Nancy’s hips buck on instinct, the friction so good it makes her sigh and tug Robin closer. 

When she drops Robin at Steve’s later, she catches sight of the mark she left on Robin’s neck and blushes, reaching out to trace it and apologizing. 

“Oh my god, please,” Robin nearly groans. “It’s the hottest thing ever, Nancy Wheeler marking her territory.” 

“My territory, huh?” Her stomach rolls pleasantly. 

“Yep.” She pops the p, wiggles in her seat. “Long as you want it, that is.” 

“Oh, I want it.” The tone of her voice surprises her, the depth of it, and Robin, too, if the wide eyed looks she gets in response is any indicator. 

“G-good.” 

The smile Nancy gives her is smug and wanting and real in a way that Nancy feels in her bones. 

“Night, Rob.” She leans over and kisses her cheek, but before she can make it back, Robin catches her, kisses her deeply, pulls away with a bite to her bottom lip. 

“Night, Nance.” And she’s out of the car before Nancy can fully come back to her senses. 

Holy shit. It’s Barb’s laugh, which is weird, maybe, but makes Nancy’s smile grow as she pulls back into the road. Later, when she slips her hand beneath her pajama bottoms, her mind is full of Robin, and she comes so hard that she’s crying again, confusion and relief and happiness dripping into her pillowcase. It’s good, Nancy. It’s supposed to be good. The parts of her that believe that are noticeably bigger than the ones that don’t. 

When Nancy drags Robin into the backseat two weeks later, climbing on top of her as she tries to simultaneously slam the car door and get Robin’s shirt off, her palms are sweating. She’s nervous, so nervous, because she wants it so much and she wants to make Robin feel good and she’s never done this before, not like this. 

She’s there, fully, when Robin gasps a breath into her mouth as her hands work underneath her sports bra, cupping her and catching her nipples in the v between her index and middle fingers. Her body rocks against Robin’s thigh where it’s pressed between Nancy’s, and she presses her own leg down, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as Robin arches, neck exposed for Nancy to take. 

She does take it, licking and sucking, but she doesn’t leave a mark, saves that for the spot just above her sports bra, the swell of her breast flushed a light pink and so warm under Nancy’s tongue. Robin holds her head to her, gripping Nancy’s hair so tightly that it stings as she bites, soothes it with kisses. Pulling back to rid her of the bra, Nancy goes right back, sucking the mark again and then down, down, until she has Robin’s nipple against her tongue, Robin’s pained praises the best thing she’s ever heard. 

She’s still got all of her own clothes on, batting her hands away when Robin tries to reciprocate. She likes that Robin wants her, feels it burn beneath her skin, but she’s busy, invested, obsessed with her girlfriend’s body underneath hers, with all that she can do to make her feel good, to make her cry out for Nancy. She leaves wet trails from her neck to her chest, spends so much time teasing and suckling at Robin’s incredible tits that she’s nearly crying when Nancy moves lower, a wrecked please, please, please Nancy’s company as she licks along the hem of Robin’s jeans. 

The car is cramped, and it takes an annoying amount of time to get her free of her shoes and jeans, long enough that Nancy moves back to her breasts, making Robin laugh, incredulous. “Oh my god, you’re going to kill me.” Nancy only grins, her tongue laving at a nipple. 

When she makes it back down, Robin scrunched against the opposite door to give Nancy a little more room, she can smell her, feels a wet spot on her boxer briefs when she cups at her through them. She’s nervous, still, but she’s spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about this over the last few weeks, and she doesn’t stop herself from doing exactly what she wants, which is to nose at the cotton and kiss her over it before slipping her fingers in the hem and pulling down to Robin’s ankles, until she can carefully kick them off. It’s not careful enough; Nancy catches a knee, and she’s laughing even as Robin apologizes, decides the best way to respond is to bend again and run her tongue up the crease at Robin’s thigh. Robin seems to agree, an ohgodfuck making Nancy smile into her skin. 

When she moves her mouth over, spreads her open on her tongue as her nose rests in dark blonde hair, she watches Robin’s eyes close, a moan escaping before she catches her lower lip between her teeth. Nancy lifts herself away to say, voice shaking with want and happiness and a flood of things so good she doesn’t feel the need to name them, “Let me hear, Robbie. Please,” and blue eyes blink open to meet hers, Robin nodding before moaning again, louder, as Nancy dives back in. 

She tastes so good, slick against Nancy’s tongue, and Nancy knows when she’s found the right spot, the right movement of her tongue, because Robin tells her, beautifully vocal. “There. There, there, there, Nance, baby, yes. Please. Just like that.” She keeps it up just like that, and when Robin asks, “Can you…fingers?” Nancy fights a smile that would interrupt the very important works she’s doing and instead lifts her right hand, slipping two fingers inside and moaning into Robin at the feeling of it. She gets cries of approval, feels Robin tighten around her, and then her hips rise, her body freezing before she comes, squeezing at Nancy’s fingers and shaking against her tongue. 

It’s incredible. Nancy immediately wants to do it again. When Robin tugs her head away, she says so, mouth soaking wet, and Robin groans, laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, of course you can. Jesus, Nance. But.” She bites her lip again, moves her hand from the back of Nancy’s head to her mouth, thumb running over her chin. Nancy doesn’t think before she moves and sucks it into her mouth, humming at the taste. Robin’s eyes darken. “Can I touch you?” She tilts her head, smiling softly. “It’s okay, if you don’t want that.” She says it so gently, so genuinely, that Nancy could cry. She pulls back, holding Robin’s hand to her chest, still covered. 

She might not always want it, a realization she’s had over the last two weeks as she thought about the many ways she wanted to touch Robin. Sometimes she might like to touch herself. Sometimes she might not want anything at all, except to make Robin feel good. That’s something they can talk about, something she wants to talk about. 

But right now, she doesn’t need that. Right now, she presses a kiss to Robin’s knuckles before letting her hand go and pulling her shirt over her head. She brings Robin’s willing hands back to her waist, smiles at the heat of them. 

“I want to feel you,” she says, sure of the words, mind nowhere but the cramped backseat of her car. 

Robin’s thumbs move as she leans forward, kissing Nancy with intention, licking at the remnants of herself on her lips. “Tell me what feels good,” she says, forehead pressed to Nancy’s, and Nancy nods and lets herself want.

[jobean12-blog]

Wrangled

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Cowboy/Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 2,214

Summary: There’s a new Cowboy in town and as much as your father-who is too old fashioned and a bit of an asshole- hates to admit it, he needs some help on the farm, so when Joel starts coming around you can’t help but fall for him. 

Author’s Note: The trailer for Pedro’s new film ‘Strange Way of Life’ has sparked some inspo Cowboy style! It’s my first time writing this AU so forgive me for any silly mistakes or cliche stuff. I’m really looking forward to this film! Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet Daisy, thank you! @firefly-graphics 🥰

Warnings: some soft fluffy moments, tension, flirting, Joel being entirely too s-e-x-y and i-mpli-ed s-e-x-y times 

Joel Miller Masterlist

The full glasses of lemonade wobble precariously on the tray as you walk toward the barn, the sweltering sun making droplets of sweat roll down your back.

“There you are,” your father says as you come around the building.

The sound of hooves stomping the dirt drowns out your response as Joel approaches on his horse. He stops just beside you, tugging gently on the reins before he swings one long leg over and slides off.

Joel immediately turns your way, his eyes discreetly sweeping down your body. He tips his hat in greeting before giving your father a short nod.

You hand Joel a glass first, his rough fingers brushing yours and causing a shiver to shoot down your spine despite the early morning heat.

“Looks like I got here just in time,” he drawls. “Thanks darlin’.”

“Sure is a hot one,” your father states as he takes his glass.

You nod in agreement but keep your eyes on Joel, watching intently as he drinks down the cool lemonade.

He takes a long sip, tipping his head back so you can see the muscles in his neck move with every swallow. A bead of sweat rolls along his temple, getting lost in the salt and pepper of his beard before it traces the curve of his jaw and slides down the column of his neck.

Your tongue darts out to trace your lips and his eyes follow the movement, a dark heat simmering behind his warm brown irises.

“I’ve got to go into town and look for some parts for these machines,” you father states, effectively breaking the tension between you and Joel. “I won’t be back ‘til lunch time.”

“Ok,” you say quietly.

“Now I want you to listen to Joel here,” your father continues. “He’s gonna continue workin’ and anything he needs you best be there to git it done.”

“Of course,” you agree with a hard swallow.

“I’m sure we’ll manage just fine,” Joel murmurs and you can feel his eyes on you.

After speaking with Joel about parts and machinery your father goes back to the house and drives away in his truck, leaving you standing alone with Joel.

“You’re lookin’ as pretty as a peach darlin’.”

You eyes fall to your feet but you whisper, “you’re welcome to look.”

Calloused fingertips press under your chin and he lifts your gaze.

“Is that so?” he asks, taking a step closer.

Your breath catches at the look in his eyes, desperate with barely contained desire.

His thumb moves to brush across your lips and your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. You reach up with a trembling hand and wrap your fingers around his thick wrist as best you can, holding on to steady yourself.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” you breathe out.

“I’d love another glass of your delicious lemonade darlin’. Can’t seem to quench my thirst today.”

Your eyes open wide and you stare at him before releasing his wrist and practically running up the hill back to the farmhouse.

When you return with a fresh glass of lemonade, Joel is no longer standing outside the barn.

You call his name but there’s no answer so you walk into the cool shade of the barn and search for him.

Then you hear a horse snort and grunt and spot Joel at the far back stable, racking up Whiskey to the post. You approach slowly and Joel stands, giving Whiskey a pat before he takes the glass you’re holding out.

He winks and tips his hat before drinking the whole glass in one long sip. He smacks his lips and places the glass down on a bale of hay.

You gently pat Whiskey on his nose, the horse whinnying and slowly shaking his head. When you feel the weight of Joel’s gaze you cut your eyes to him.

“You’re staring,” you state.

“I like what I see,” he answers as he saunters closer.

You lower your lashes and turn your attention back to the horse but when you feel the heat of his body at your back it sends goosebumps exploding over your skin.

“What are you doin’ all day alone in that house?” he asks, his lips a whisper along the shell of your ear.  

He places a soft kiss just under your ear before sliding his nose down your neck with a deep inhale. Your skin tingles at the sensation and you crane your head to the side with a release of breath.

“Well?” he repeats, moving away so you can turn to face him.

“Nothin’ really,” you say with a shrug. “Except chores and lots of ‘em.”

He moves closer, his long fingers tugging at the red bandana around his neck as he pulls it free and wipes the back of his neck. Your eyes fall to the open buttons of his shirt, his tanned skin no longer obscured by the fabric.

“I’m sure I can keep ya’ busy with somethin’ other than chores this mornin’ darlin’.”

You tilt your head back and meet his eyes, your lips parted with your heavy breathing.

His heated gaze pins you in place as much as his body does when he closes the distance and presses you against the wall.

“So soft,” he murmurs as his hand grazes the curve of your waist.

You tentatively place your hands on his hard chest, spreading your fingers out and testing the feel of him.

They creep higher, dancing over his broad shoulders before wrapping around his neck.

You can feel how much he wants you and when his arms pull you closer, his hands gripping you tightly, he dips his head to press his lips to yours.

There’s no hesitation, no faltering, when he kisses you and there’s no doubt he’s in control. Your lips part for him and he deepens the kiss as his hands slide down to cup your ass, tugging you impossibly closer. You flex your hips against his and he makes a low, rough sound in his throat.

He pulls away abruptly and leans his forehead to yours, his warm breath caressing your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

When he carefully raises his hand to cup your cheek, you lean into his touch but then his fingers trail down the side of your neck, sliding lower until he’s toying with the buttons of your dress and you tremble with a sigh of his name.

“You’re trouble darlin’,” he croons, then his hand settles at the back your neck and he drags you in for another heated and desperate kiss.

His hands move over your body, stroking and teasing every inch of bare skin he can find. His mouth is warm and wet at your throat and then lower, tracing the outline of your collarbone before lingering at the swell of your breasts.

He lifts his head and brushes his lips to yours. “You taste even better than you look darlin’. And I would’ve sworn that was impossible.”

With his eyes on yours he slides his hand between your breasts, the motion torturously slow, until he meets the hem of your dress. He teases the fabric, dancing his fingers over your knee before drawing small circles along your inner thigh.

You press your body closer, your fingers sliding back down to his chest to grip his shirt and steady yourself.

His fingers move higher, his skin calloused and warm and scraping against your softness in perfect balance.

Your legs fall open and he smiles against your lips, keeping them just a whisper away as his fingers gently brush over your damp panties.

But at the feel of you so wet and ready he growls and nibbles your bottom lip and you don’t have a chance to suck in another breath before his mouth is on yours.  

His body is hard and uncompromising as the wall behind you and when he pulls at the fabric that rests on your hips you arch into him, tugging hard on his shirt.

He eases away from you and you nearly go with him. His hat is still on but it’s tipped precariously back and he stares as he slowly slides your panties down your legs.

The sound of an engine startles you both and before you can protest he tugs the fabric from your foot and grins before neatly folding it and sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Your mouth parts in a gasp but you quickly straighten, pulling at your dress and smoothing your hands over yourself.

“Is lunch ready?” your father bellows from the barn door.

Joel steps away and you rush around him before your father sees you.

“Will be in just a few,” you answer as you pretend to be busy with the water pail.

“Ready for somethin’ to eat?” he asks Joel when he sees him.

“Sure am,” Joel replies. “Starved in fact.”

His eyes swing to you and they sparkle as the corner of his mouth lifts into a promising smirk.

You’re still plating the food when both men walk through the door and Joel removes his hat, hanging it on the rack to the side.  After washing up they sit and chat while you serve them lunch.

“Looks amazin’,” Joel raves as he takes a whiff of the steaming food.

“Girl knows how to cook a meal,” your father mutters through a mouthful.

“Aren’t you gonna join us?” Joel asks, giving you an expectant look.

“Oh I don’t usually…” you start to explain but your father interrupts.

“Now don’t be rude honey. Sit. Have somethin’ to eat,” he grumbles.

“Ok,” you say quietly and make yourself a plate.

As you approach the table Joel stands and pulls out the chair next to him, smiling and waiting for you to sit.

With wide eyes you give him a shaky smile in return with a quiet thanks.

The men continue to talk about the new parts and what else needs to be done on the farm and all the while you try to concentrate on the food in front of you but it’s almost impossible when you feel Joel’s warm hand settle on your thigh under the table.

His gently massages your leg, never missing a beat in the conversation and even doing his best to bring you into it.

“Do you like to ride?” Joel asks as he turns to face you.

You whip your head in his direction, giving him a confused look since you didn’t even know they had been talking about the horses, Joel’s touch too distracting.

“Ride?” you squeak.

“What’s going on wit you?” your father rumbles. “Didn’t you understand…?”

“It’s fine,” Joel says placatingly as he glares at your father then turns to you.

“Do you enjoy riding the horses?” he asks again softly.

“Yes. I love to. But I don’t often have much time to do it,” you say politely.

“She’s busy with her chores,” your father butts in and you clamp your mouth shut.

Joel gives your thigh a squeeze and you can see his teeth grind under the hard clench of his jaw.

Before anyone can say another word your father’s phone rings. He answers it with a gruff hello and stands from the table, walking out the front door and onto the porch.

“You know how hard it is to sit here and listen to him talk to you like that?” Joel seethes, bringing his lips close to your ear. “I have a right mind to knock him outta the chair.”

Even though his words are sweet his intent is predatory as his fingers move higher, your bare skin warm and silky.

“And don’t you worry darlin’, I’m gonna take you for the best ride of your life.”

“Joel,” you whimper.

“Mm, what’s the matter darlin’? You makin’ a mess of that chair?”  

The sound of the door makes you jump and your father pins you with a warning glare.

Joel’s hand stills but he doesn’t remove it.  

“I’ve gotta run back to town to pick something up. Should be back within the hour,” your father says to Joel.

“Make sure that pie is still warm for me when I get back,” he then says to you before stomping out the door.

Once you hear the gravel crunch under the tires of his pickup truck you fly from the chair, turning and leaning on the counter as you stare at Joel, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

He stands and walks toward you, his steps purposeful until he has you caged against the counter with his large body.

“Where are you runnin’ off to darlin’?”

“We can’t get caught,” you whisper. “He’ll kill you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Joel simpers. “I can handle it.”

You open your mouth to protest but he firmly presses a finger to your lips.

“What I can’t handle,” he starts as he drops his finger and slides it down your chest and over your stomach, “is standing here another minute and knowing you got nothin’ on under this dress.”

When his finger reaches the hem he hooks it under and slowly starts to lift the fabric.

“I have to feel you…taste you, before I lose my damn mind,” he murmurs.

@sstan-hoe @pedritosdarling @laineyreads @lorilane33 @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @blackwidownat2814​ @littleseasiren​

[ashwhowrites]

Can I request an angst to fluff Eddie story where Eddie is an oblivious little golden retriever and his girlfriend hates/loves that about him? He starts dealing to Chrissy who then starts hanging around more, starts changing her style to be more like Eddie and also his girlfriend, breaks up with Jason, and then suddenly is everywhere. Eventually the reader loses it in front of everyone when Chrissy goes a little far with her flirting and Eddie tells the reader she's being dramatic. To him that's his girl, his soul mate and he even plans on proposing after graduation. He doesn't even think of other girls. The reader is hurt he dismissed her in front of everyone and feels like he chose Chrissy, and Chrissy thinks she won because Eddie chose her. Then the next day Eddie doesn't pick up the reader for school like he usually does, instead he shows up late with Chrissy in his passenger seat. The final offense though? Is when Chrissy sees the reader looking and grabs Eddie and kisses him. Now Eddie realizes his girlfriend fears were very valid and now he's not sure if he can fix this, but he will move heaven and earth for just a shot at forgiveness.

(This got super long, and I really didn't mean for it to 😂 you can totally cut it down or change whatever you want. I don't really care I just really enjoy your angst to fluff.)

Yes, you may ask for a request!

Thank you so much for requesting and enjoying my work :)

And details are always helpful! If this is not what you wanted, let me know so I can rewrite it. ( Alternative ending in master-list - still ends with her going back so fair warning)

Master-list

Y/N has been smitten with Eddie since she met him in her sophomore year. He was confident, charming, funny, and so hot. It was very easy for them to become friends as they had a lot in common. They enjoyed the same bands and laughed at how many of the same shirts they had. They have an equal number of records all over their rooms. Both have a hidden stash of weed in their drawers. It was like they were meant for each other.

Eddie was obsessed the second she walked up to him. Her Metalicia shirt was cropped, and small bleach stains were scattered. He smiled, knowing he had one just like it in his closet. But when he started to get to know her, he was so dead. He thinks he already loves her since the first day. and just kept falling. when she asked to join DnD and was somehow better than he was. He knew he was going to marry her.

~~

During Y/N's junior year, she spent the whole time trying to make moves on Eddie. She cringed at how obvious her schoolgirl crush was, but he either wasn't getting the hint or did not like her.

Every morning when he picked her up, she had a big smile on her lips and a touch on his knee (that got higher each day): "Wow, Eddie, those jeans frame your thighs so well." She even fucking winked. He smiled and drove on, like she had not said a word.

Then, when they went to the pool, she did not bother to hide her staring. "Eds, your tattoos are always so fucking hot to see when you are on full display." She even trailed her fingers over the design. And nothing. He blushed and basically walked away.

She decided to bite the bullet and ask him on a date. If he said no, then at least she knew where he stood.

When Eddie saw Y/N walking up to him with purpose in her eyes, he had no idea what to think.

"Okay, Eds, I have the house to myself this weekend; want to rent some movies and hang out?" She twirled a piece of her hair with her finger. batted her eyelashes as she looked up at him. A smile lit up his face. "Of course, I'll go tell the group." Before she could correct him, he took off.

She signed, "I meant just us."

~~

"So Y/N has the house to herself, so movie night at her place." Eddie announced as he walked into the video store.

"She never asked me." Robin protested, and Steve agreed.

"Well, maybe she just thought I'd tell you." Eddie shrugged. 

"Well, did she tell you to ask us?" Steve said, "She always asks us."

"Well, no, but I just figured." He shrugged again. What is with the questions?

"Dude, you are telling me Y/N told you she has the house to herself, invites you for a movie night, and you think she wants us there?" Robin pipped me with an eye roll.

"Dude, she was so hitting on you." Steve smacked him on the shoulder.

"No, she is just friendly; she does not like me." Eddie responded back, but Robin was quick with an answer.

"Eddie, she does not flirt with anyone but you."

~~

When he showed up at her house that night, alone, she was confused.

"I thought you asked the group?"

"someone told me the intention was for this to be a date?" He asked with a shy smile pointed towards her.

"Yeah, but I get it. You make it quite clear you do not like me."

"Why would you say that?" He asked confusedly; he loved her.

"I flirt with you, and you ignore me. I ask you on a date, and you ask the group. It's okay, though. We can just be best friends."

"You never flirted with me." He was even more confused.

"Eddie, when a girl is touching your knee, complimenting everything you wear, winking at you, touching your chest, batting her eyelashes, and twirling her hair, you know she's into you."

That night she finally kissed him, and he finally understood the feelings were mutual.

~~

Now that it is senior year for the couple, they are more in love than ever.

Y/N was a bit more on the tough side, and Eddie was soft. She hated new people, but Eddie wanted to welcome everyone with open arms.

Being with Eddie meant watching people take advantage of his kindness. He is quite oblivious to the intentions of people around him. I mean, it took him two years to see she liked him. She loved and hated that about him.

And right now, the hating side has been flicked on.

Chrissy Cunnignham has been following her boyfriend around like a lap dog. It started with a deal. And Y/N thought that was the end of it, but she kept showing up.

 Eddie and Y/N snuck out to the parking lot to each take their lunch together in the back of the van. They sat in comfortable silence when a voice cut in,

"OMG, Eddie! "There you are; I have been looking for you." Y/N rolled her eyes at the high pitched voice. Eddie smiled at the girl, and Y/N hated the jab that landed in her gut.

"Just having lunch with my girl, what's up?" She smiled at the fact that he reminded her that he, in fact, does have a girlfriend. Because Chrissy likes to forget that piece of information.

"Huge party this weekend; I want to invite you," Chrissy said to Eddie and Eddie only. Her eyes never drifted from his brown ones.

Eddie looked over to Y/n with a question in his eyes.

"Baby, want date night at a party?" She did not want to spend her night with Eddie at a party, but if he wanted to go, she would suck it up. She gave him a nod.

"We will be there."

~~

After the little run in with Chrissy at lunch, Y/N felt a tad bit sour. She knows Eddie is hers, and Eddie only wants her, but that insecurity was settling in.

She shook it off and headed to Hellfire. She and Eddie are now partners in leading the campaigns. Her seat was always next to Eddie, so a huge scowl landed on her face when she saw a familiar ponytail sitting next to Eddie in her seat.

"Chrissy, welcome, but that is my seat." Y/N said it as nicely as she could.

"Oh well, I would prefer to sit next to Eddie." She giggled as she looked at Eddie.

Eddie was once again oblivious to Chrissy's disinterest in their relationship.

"Well, I do not care; I would prefer to sit in my own seat with my boyfriend." She did not care to be polite now.

The group was walking in behind them but stopped at the tension in the room.

"Well, if Eddie wants me to move, then I will move." Chrissy bit back, and she crossed her arms.

One thing about Eddie is that he does not like to say no to people, and he does not like to hurt people's feelings, except apparently his girlfriends'.

"Baby, don't be so dramatic; it's just a seat. The spare chair is in the closet." Eddie smiled softly, truly believing he could easily fix the situation. Chrissy cheered.

The boys gasped at his response. Dusitn went to say something, but Y/N gave him a look. With the biggest breath she could manage, she grabbed the chair and placed it next to Gareth. Her boyfriend could fuck off.

Eddie frowned in her direction, but his attention quickly returned to Chrissy when she asked questions about the campaign.

~

Y/N rolled her eyes every time Chrissy would cheer on Eddie.

"Look, if you want to cheer so goddamn bad, why not go to practice?" Y/N snapped. Dustin tried to hide his laugh.

"Babe, no need to be rude. She is having fun; if you are going to sit there and be mean, you should just go." Y/N felt steam coming out of her ears. Did he seriously just tell her to go home?

She bit back her response and clenched the dice in her hand. It was going to be a long night.

~~

It got even worse. The news that Chrissy dumped Jason traveled fast.

Y/N had her theories of why this breakup happened so suddenly, but Eddie, of course, just wanted to help.

"Chrissy You deserve so much better. You will find someone perfect for you. I know it."

Y/N felt like her eyes never stopped rolling. She shot a glare at the back of Eddie's head as he hugged Chrissy.

~~

It was the night of the party, and the couple was heading to the front door.

"We shouldn't have come. All she wants to do is flirt with you and act like you don't have a girlfriend."

"She knows we are together, and she is not flirting. She just wants a friend so be nice," Eddie warned as Chrissy opened the door with a smile and only pointed to Eddie.

Y/N felt her blood boil when Chrissy laced her hand into Eddie's and yanked him out of Y/N's grasp, dragging him into the house. Eddie's head turned quickly to his girlfriend, "Babe." He said it with a smile as he used his free hand to reach for her.

 Y/N was very close to either killing Chrissy or Eddie. She understood that Eddie had no idea what was going on. He doesn't know Chrissy has been flirting with him for days. But she wanted to scream at him for being so stupid.

~~

She was dancing with Eddie, finally having fun since Chrissy got occupied with hosting. Her hands were in his hair, their hips grinding into each other, and matching smiles took over their faces. They were lost in each other, making out in the middle of the floor. This is what she missed about Eddie—being with him in this way. He has been so busy with Chrissy that she feels like she's been pushed to the back burner.

"Can we talk?" She asked loudly into his ear. He pulled away, worried, and walked her out to the backyard.

They stood on the grass and passed a joint back and forth.

"I don't want to be that girlfriend that controls you or picks who you are friends with. But this thing with Chrissy needs to either be talked about or stopped. I am not comfortable with how she flirts with you, how she touches you, and how she always needs your attention."

"Babe, I told you there was nothing going on." He sighed

"I do not care if there is nothing going on; it is the fact that she is trying to make something happen, and you will not shut it down. I know you think everyone is just being friendly, but I am your girlfriend, and if I am telling you that I feel our relationship is being neglected, you should be working this out with me, not trying to tell me I'm making shit up. I bite my tongue a lot, but the times that it splits, you turn on me. You tell me to leave it alone and go home. Do you know how embarrassing that is? and seeing her smug smile because she's winning."

Y/N noticed her friend Robin making her way out to the yard with Steve following behind. Robin could easily sense the tension, and she knew Chrissy had been a pain in Y/N's ass, so she could imagine what was going on.

"She is not winning! There is no fight or competition. You are my girlfriend, not her. So I don't see why we are having to talk about this. Why would I want to even try with her when I have you? Just get over this insecurity and jealousy so we can move on from it."

Robin, Steve, and Y/N's mouths dropped. Chrissy once again popped up with a big smile.

"I'm feeling some tension here; maybe we should take a breather." Chrissy offered adviced as she put her hand on Eddie's back. That's when Y/N snapped.

"Get your fucking hands off of my boyfriend!" Eddie was quick to jump in front of Chrissy as Y/N marched towards her.

"Seriously, you need to calm down. You are embarrassing yourself and me."

Y/N felt every piece of anger leave, filled with hurt. It was like Eddie wasn't even himself. He was replaced with the shell.

"I pour my heart out to you. I tell you why I am upset with everything going on. And you first told me I was insecure and jealous, and now you are fucking protecting her? Are you saying I'm embarrassing you? What's embarrassing is how she chases you around. how she dumped her boyfriend just to try to snag you. She's fucking wearing a Metallica shirt, Eddie! with fucking black boots. I have almost the same outfit in my closet. She wants you! Why can't you fucking see that?"

Eddie honestly did not know what to say.

"Let's take you home." Robin said as she grabbed Y/N's hand.

Y/N was hurt, but he didn't bother to say anything, didn't bother to stop her, and never bothered to follow her to Robin's car.

He just stayed; he stayed with her.

~~

Y/N took the time away from Eddie to breathe. She needed some space. So she waited until Monday to talk to him when he picked her up.

The only problem was that he never showed up. She begged Steve for a ride, and he said yes without hesitation.

She was relieved to see she made it on time. But her breath of relief hitched when she saw his van pull up with her in the passenger seat. She watched as they climbed out. Eddie looked like he was in the middle of a huge rant, then Chrissy's eyes caught hers.

If looks could kill, they would have murdered each other.

Y/N started to walk towards them, intent on calling them out, but she froze in her spot at Chrissy's next action.

~~

"Okay, I think we need to take some space away from each other because if it makes my girlfriend uncomfortable, I need to respect that." Eddie explained as he pulled up into the parking lot and getting out of his van. He tried to call his girlfriend last night to tell her he was going to give Chrissy a ride to talk some things over, but she never answered.

"Eddie I don't get it. You had a fight, and she left, and you stayed with me. You obviously just showed her that you picked me. Respecting her wishes is all out the window now." Chrissy said as she peered over at her. an idea forming in her head. This was her chance to end their relationship once and for all.

Eddie went to protest when he felt her lips crash onto his. His eyes flew as wide as they could. He cringed at the feeling of sticky gloss coating his lips. He went to pull away, but her hand grabbed the back of his head to shove him closer. When he finally got himself free, he had no idea what had just happened. He was telling her they couldn't be friends, and she kissed him? That's when he noticed it; Chrissy was twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes, and he felt her touch in his chest.

"Oh fuck, you are flirting. Look I'm in love with Y/N so this will never happen" He stated as he pulled himself away. He messed up. His girlfriend told him over and over, and she was right. Chrissy didn't respect his relationship with Y/N. And he allowed himself to disrespect it in the same way.

He was quick to head towards the school, but that's when his eyes caught his favorite ones. She stood there, unmoving. Tears flowed down her face, her hand tightly holding her backpack strap. His heart dropped. She saw it. She saw her kiss him.

He went to move, but she was faster; she ran off into the building.

"BABY, WAIT!" he screamed as he ran after her. He followed her into the girls' bathroom; he didn't care.

She was sobbing into her hands on the floor. His heart shattered. He was quick to kneel in front of her. He grabbed her hands away from her face and wiped off her tears.

"Baby, I promise, I didn't kiss her. I didn't know she was going to do that. I'm so sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. You told me over and over, and I just chose not to believe you. It's just that I'm so goddamn in love with you that I don't even notice anyone else. I didn't notice her flirting because half the time I don't even notice her. I'm thinking about you. I'm sorry I called you insecure and jealous. You aren't; you were upset, and I should have made you feel better. "I promise with everything in me that I only want you, and I only want you for the rest of my life." He didn't notice that he began to cry too. He was so scared that he'd messed this up so badly that she'd leave.

"Please don't leave me, baby. I need you. Please don't," he was sobbing into her now. His face was tucked into her neck.

"I'm not going to leave you, baby." "I love you too," she said, kissing his cheek. She knew he understood his mistake now. And she also knew he was going to fix everything he cracked.

He pulled away with a sniffle. Red, puffy eyes met each other's on the bathroom floor. He leaned in for a kiss, but she pushed him back.

"Not until you get that 30¢ gloss off of you," she teased. He took it as seriously as he should have. and began to scrub the hell out of his lips. After about three washes, he went to her with a smile.

"Now?" He asked, and she nodded.

Their lips met in a needy kiss. Every once of love and passion was sent to one another.

 

As the couple walked out of the bathroom, they were definitely late for class now. Eddie spoke up.

"Just so you know, I'm marrying you."

~~~~~

Tags- @bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson

@sage-the-z0mbie

[sassydefendorflower]

I do find it very interesting how differently Scar's and Roy's violence against Edward is viewed within the fandom (and partially the narrative).

There's two specific instances I am thinking of (some of the other happenstances of violence play into different dynamics better discussed at another time).

The first one is the legendary first encounter between Scar and Edward. He only finds them because some military employee uttered the name "Fullmetal" while the State Alchemist killer was prowling East City and he hunts them down the same he would have hunted down Roy or Armstrong or Grand Basque.

And then he almost kills Ed - because of what Ed stands for, no matter the fact that he's a child. By his own admission later in the series, Scar is blinded by hatred and vengeance at this point. It doesn't matter that Edward is fifteen. It doesn't matter that Edward never set foot into Ishval, or that Resembool was bombed during the war.

What matters is that Edward is a symbol in Scar's way.

The second instance is something less often discussed, but something just as - if not more - interesting to me.

Because this is the scene where a - wrath-stricken - Roy Mustang threatens to burn Edward should he not release the object of Roy's fury.

And it's not a funny scene. In the story we've just seen just what exactly Roy is capable off. We've seen him burn eyes and ears and tongues, we've seen him enjoy it. And blinded by his personal need for vengeance we see him threaten an ally (maybe even a friend) with severe bodily harm, maybe even death.

Just as Scar almost ninety chapters (49 episodes) earlier, Roy is willing to kill a child because he is blinded by hatred.

And it's fascinating to me. Because of course Scar and Roy are parallels to each other - at least in this part of the story. Throughout the entire story, both men circle Wrath - the humunculus, the Fuhrer, and their own fatal flaw. It is no coincidence that Roy is shown in direct contrast with Bradley during Ishval, just as it is no coincident that it is Scar who finally strikes him down with the help of some godly intervention.

Both Scar and Roy have to overcome their wrath specifically as part of their story arc to fulfill their character development. Which is why Scar is the only one who doesn't outright condemn Roy for wanting to torture Envy - he understands the need, just as Hawkeye understands that Envy has to die either way. He just also understands what this kind of fury does to a person, has witnessed firsthand how it almost cost him what little community he had left after the genocide - and how giving up on this all-consuming vengeance (without forgiving the Amestrian Government or even Roy for what they did) is what allowed him to build a new community and a new future for his people.

Which makes the timing of this scene - and the fact that in both examples it is Edward who almost falls victim to their punishing hands - so intriguing.

Because we meet Scar first. We meet him as an antagonist at the beginning of the story, and the first real impression we get of his mission is colored by Ed's limited worldview and our affection as the reader for the protagonist of this story. As such, Scar's violence against someone who bears no fault for the horrors he suffered seems unjustified and leaves a stronger impression.

By the time Roy snaps (after a long road of character development that seems very heroic but is always tinged with the thinly veiled truth that Roy is ready to snap at any given point) Scar has been an ally for more than 14 episodes. Scar has already found redemption in the eyes of our heroes by meeting Winry and finding closure.

Roy on the other hand has accompanied us, the reader, the viewer, as a cunning hero with a dark past. The charming, suave manipulator with a heart of gold. By the time he threatens to murder a child, THE CHILD even, we view him as our friend. We trust him.

As such it is easier to forgive him for what he almost did.

And I think that's fascinating. Because if we look at it bare-boned, there is little difference in what happened: they both almost killed/harmed Edward but ultimately didn't (they were both stopped), they were both driven by hatred and vengeance, they were both enacting "justified" revenge on the wrong target, they are both allies for a large part of the story, they are both driven by the same motive (revenge/Ishval) - and yet, it often seems as if Roy's attempted murder is forgotten, while Scar's dictates how half the fandom interacts with him.

Part of that is due to the placement of these scenes - it is Scar's introduction, and Roy's third act culmination of his character arc - but it is still something I think about.

Because it is integral for Roy's character (and the reason why everyone tried to stop him from torturing Envy further) to understand that he was willing to kill Edward so late in the game - just as it is integral to understanding Scar's character that he quickly abandoned his senseless hatred of Edward (though I doubt they would ever be friends) and instead is part of the group that stops Roy from enacting his revenge.

They mirror each other, and if anything, Roy is the one who had a character deterioration arc before he pulled it back around in the last minute.

Scar is a classical anti-hero, someone with a narratively linear path towards healing throughout the story. But just because Scar starts as an antagonist, doesn't mean that Roy was meant to be a true hero.

Both their vices is Wrath, only Roy faces his way later in the game. Only Scar embraced moving forward first.

[stevebcks]

Okay so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about episode three and especially Ed’s plotline in it (and the final scene of course), so here’s a not so short messy analysis of what I’ve been thinking.

MAJOR SPOILERS JUST IN CASE…

As a short background, we start with Ed almost dead after he has basically been begging the rest of the crew to kill him. First Izzy, when he gives him the gun, then the rest of them when he sails them into a storm, trying to get them and himself killed, but instead still getting what he wanted when they turn against him. We get our final hint at how this is what he always wanted when he says “Finally.” as Jim lifts the cannonball.

And we start with Ed now in this purgatory state. I would assume this entire place is created by Ed since it is so deeply connected to him. And we learn that he also creates Hornigold as a representation of himself, of the subconscious parts of himself talking to him, and he hates this guy deeply.

This place puts the cards on the table for Ed.

“So if you hate me and I am you, then…”

“I hate myself.”

He gets to understand the hate he feels for this guy is really what he feels for himself. But it’s not only that, we see the reaction he has when he first sees Hornigold. He fears himself, what he is capable of doing to others, disgusted by the stories of what Hornigold has done (like Felix’s death) in the place of what he has done.

Everything Hornigold says, is really just his most hidden inner thoughts coming to the surface.

“You’re not very good with people, are you, Jeff?” His biggest fear, the one he has only ever been able to admit to Stede is displayed right there for him. How he believes every bad thing he has ever done is the reason he is unlovable, why he doesn’t have any friends.

“Maybe you wanna strangle me like you did your old dad.”

“How the fuck did you know that?”

“Grown man covered in tattoos. Ay? With daddy issues.”

“I never told anyone about that.”

“But you did, though, didn’t you? And he left you.”

“Fuck you.”

“And it all boils down to this. You’re afraid you are unlovable.”

Not only that but he believes that is also the reason Stede leaves him. Stede leaving puts salt in a wound he was only starting to heal. He once again believes he is inherently an evil person, unworthy of anyone but even less, of Stede.

“You gotta move on, man... or you blow your brains out.” But to some degree, he knows what he has to do in order to continue, he knows that if he really wants to live, to truly live, he needs to forgive himself of the past things he has done. It’s either that or… or what he did which is getting himself killed.

His choice is final (or so he believes…) when he is on the edge of the cliff. Hornigold, or really himself, has tied the rock to his waist and is ready to throw it. And as he said it with the pros and cons list, “I don’t think anyone’s waiting for me.” so there really is no point for him to go back.

“I’m not lovable.”

“And you’re scared to do anything about it. But old Hornigold, he ain’t scared.”

Ed knows, he knows "doing anything about it" is going back to life, face what he has done, fighting for Stede and for the person he wants to be. But his subconscious, his fear, is stronger.

“You’ve made your choice.” Hell, not only is this admitted by Hornigold, we literally see him at the beginning of episode two throwing himself, or really his little cake topper, to the water from the window. And Hornigold, or really his subconscious, throws the rock.

Then Stede finds him.

And when Stede finds him all it takes is for him to remove the towel from his face for him to open his eyes as he sinks in the water.

Him feeling Stede’s presence sparks something in him in this purgatory. And he starts fighting against the rope that he put himself in. But this is a world he has created so he still has control over it, and subconsciously, he still believes he is unlovable, unworthy, he is still not sure he deserves to be untied.

And then Stede starts asking HIM for forgiveness, and he fights and he fights, and he wants this so badly that in the real world he starts fighting too, tapping his fingers against the wood and begging Stede to keep talking, to keep leading the way with his voice. And he does.

As he takes Ed’s hand, he literally also shines a light and illuminates the surface. In the midst of this world of self-hatred, there is the voice of a person who, seeing past everything, loves him.

And the rope unties itself, in this moment his whole self fully believes that he is worthy of love, that he deserves this and he deserves Stede and that he deserves to live. This is Ed allowing himself to have this.

The flashbacks start, Ed remembers these moments and sees what he can still have, thinks “Maybe someone IS waiting for me.” as Stede keeps begging him to wake up.

And then, through the light, he sees merman Stede. And oh, how important this is. He has been seeing Hornigold, the person he hated the most in life, during all his time in purgatory, but now, now the reflection of his subconscious becomes the person he loves the most. Stede, Stede as a sea creature coming to save him. Stede, as a reflection of Ed’s subconscious telling himself, you are worthy of this, you are lovable, and you can love yourself.

The kraken, this fearful sea monster, is saved by the merman.

Stede is finally right there, and when they are finally face to face, Ed reaches for a kiss, and in that moment, he opens his eyes.

[forpiratereasons]

okay I'm with you the "forgiveness does not have to be earned" thing but I think you're missing what the show is telling us: Izzy becoming part of the crew happens before 2x4-5. Jim says "he's our dick" in the first episode! Fang is heartbroken when he's shot! The narrative suggests that he's advocated for their interests with Ed, and he saves them by stopping Ed from firing a cannon into the mast. This strikes me as more of a narrative about community/solidarity than one about unearned grace.

ah no worries i see where you have misunderstood me. i agree that there is, at the very least, solidarity between izzy and ed's crew in eps 1 - 3. of course, the "he's our dick" line comes because archie has asked why jim and frenchie even care about izzy who seems like kind of a dick - archie doesn't know him and doesn't really care about him and is kind of baffled that anybody does, so you know there's still quite a bit of distance between the crew generally and izzy. i think izzy feels responsible for them more than he feels like he's a part of them - "we cannot let this crew suffer any more for our mistakes." so his relationship to the crew is still very much dependent and tied up in his relationship with ed. this also plays into the crew's treatment of izzy versus ed - izzy is a lesser source of conflict to the crew specifically and they also didn't have as much of an emotional connection to him prior to the kraken era, so his position lacks the feeling of betrayal that ed's has. but yeah sure i agree that there's a level of solidarity there.

in ep four though, izzy is separate from the crew. physically, even - he's hanging out at the forepeak with the unicorn figurehead getting smashed. he's not included in ed's crews cleaning of the deck, and he's not included in stede's crews attempt to cheer up ed's crew. he hides in his room alone and when they knock on his door he shouts and tells them to fuck off and says they're harassing him.

this is why the note and leg scene is so good. it's the crew extending a hand to someone who hasn't earned it, and telling him he has a position among them - as a figurehead, no less. they see izzy and what he needs (a leg and a purpose) and they give it to him. that's about the crew deciding what kind of crew they'll be. he takes it. that's about izzy deciding to join them.

so when i say that the crew accepts izzy into their fold in eps four and five, it's different from what was going on in eps 1-3 for three reasons: 1) it's collective, from both ed and stede's crews, now united and from a position of safety, and 2) izzy's no longer viewed as being aligned with blackbeard by the crew and/or by himself, and 3) izzy is physically and emotionally separated from the crew at the start of ep four.

as far as community/solidarity over unearned grace - i guess i disagree that these are that kind of distinct as concepts? community always involves a level of unearned grace.

the point is that it's in extending grace to izzy that the crew forms their community - their acceptance of izzy, who has now separated himself from the crew, into the fold is what drives them to work together and become a cohesive unit - and establishes its values - if you need help, we will help you, if you need kindness, we will be kind, if you need purpose, we will give you purpose.

that's growth, baby!

[littlewriterfullofwords]

Merry Christmas

Parring: Dr. Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Summary: You throw some Christmas party at your house where you show the BAU team your traditiona

Warnings: fluff

A/N: Hi! So, I'm currently in the 2nd season of CM, so there aren't more characters or anything, I'm new to the series, kinda, so please forgive. Second, the traditions in the ff are my country's traditions. Feel free to share yours in the comments!

"Merry Christmas!" Penelope opened her arms to hug you at the doorframe, big smile decorating her beautiful face. "Thank you for the invitation, sweetheart."

"I'm glad you came." You moved a bit to the side to let your coworker come in. "Make yourself at home, Pen."

"Sure will do." She winked at you and started to walk around your house, from time to time she was making nice comments about the decor.

The next person to come was Spencer. In a red sweater, Mr. "I know it all" greeted you with little, and cute, hand waving, his iconic move.

And after him, the others came in, in the order: Jason, Emily with JJ, Aaron and Derek.

"Your Christmas is a lot different than ours." Started Emily when you put another fish on the table.

"Yeah. Only 12 dishes? You have to try everything? That's insane." Murmured Derek with a glass of dried-fruit juice. "Where did you all get that from?"

"The Bible." Before you could answer, Spencer was faster. "You know, according to the Bible, there were 12 apostles so Catholic countries put 12 dishes on the Christmas table. They also leave an empty seat for an unannounced guest or, more spiritual, for those that had died."

"Yeah." You nodded with a smile. "That's right. Just the tradition, nothing more."

"Tradition is good." Whispered Gideon. "Tells a lot about the person."

"Once again, thank you for having us." Hotchner interrupted the info dump. "It might be a new experience for us, but that's life, right? We learning."

"Oh, stop. You making my angel blush!" Garcia petted your back in a soothing manner but with a smile on her face.

You were glad they came. Hey, they were family and Christmas is family time. You needed them now due to your family being all dead.

After dinner, came the present time! Everyone gathered in the living room and Derek, with a red Santa's hat, started to dispense the presents. Of course, he had to add something funny before giving it to the final owner, which has been making everyone laugh.

The atmosphere was amazing. It felt family-like and you didn't want it to go away any moment soon.

"It's party time!" Said Morgan, and with Emily by his side, they opened champagne and other alcoholic drinks they had brought.

Immediately , it reminded you of New Year Eve and the party your friends had always thrown. There was always lots of alcohol, music, dancing and many more.

"Let's go!" JJ grabbed your wrist and pulled into the dancing circle, you had no other choice but to join them, and you did.

Saying you weren't having the best time of your life would be a lie. You were so happy with those people, you were ready to call the your fucking family, and in your head you were. You loved each of them in your own way, and you hoped they noticed that. Well, they were profilers, they sure did.

The clock on the wall was showing 3:15am, with its quiet ticking interrupting the quiet carols. You turned off the tap in the kitchen and dried your hands. Everyone was asleep, either on the couch, armchairs or floor while you had been washing the dishes and cleaning after the party.

As quiet as possible, you came back to the living room with blankets and covered everyone with one, you didn't want them to catch a cold.

"Happy Christmas." You whispered with a shy smile before you started walking to the stairs.

"Happy Christmas, Y/N." The quiet voice of Reid's made you stop in the half way and smile again before you looked his way.

"I thought you were sleeping. Sorry if I woke you up."

"You didn't, don't worry." He shook his head with his innocent smile you liked so much.

"Would you like to join me for a movie?" You hesitated some time before asking that, it was your little secret.

"Sure." Spencer lifted himself from the armchair and came up to you, then followed you upstairs.

You had this thing, you needed to watch your favourite movie after Christmas Eve to fall asleep. It was hard to explain why only this time of year but you didn't complain. You loved the movie, so it was a pleasure.

"If you don't mind, we will watch 'The Nightmare before Christmas'." You said when you finally reached your room and turned on the TV.

"Whatever you want. I'm fine with that." Spencer sat next to you, on the floor by the bed and placed his head on his knees. "Did you know that Tim Burton only produced the movie, not directed it?"

"I read it somewhere. But thank you for reminding me that." A little smile appeared on your lips before you clicked 'play' and the movie began.

Only a few minutes of the movie passed and in the corner of your eye you saw Spencer rock back and forth.

"You know you can say that, right?" You whispered with your head turned his way and a smile. "That's okay. Go on."

"Did you know that Danny Elfman only voices Jack's singing, not his spoken voice?" With your permission, Reid lets out his kept breath, what made you chuckle, and he started to talk. "He also voices two other characters, Barrel and the Clown."

"Really? That's so amazing." You whispered. "It's good to have you by my side."

"Oh, that's... nothing big." Spencer scratched the back of his head in a shy manner.

You moved on with the movie, with Reid giving you some fun facts about it. And even though you knew all that, you'd been a fan since day one, you've been listening carefully like if you didn't know them. You loved listening to Spencer, you loved his knowledge and how passionately he was sharing it. You loved... Spencer. You liked it or not, you were in love with him and his knowledge.

Unluckily, the movie ended, so did your time with Reid.

"Thank you for your company." You said and turned the TV off. "And thank you for coming...to the party. I had the best time."

"We should be thankful." Chuckled Spencer. "You taught us a lot. We now understand more."

"Don't tell me you don't profile each other on a daily basis?" You joked.

"We do....At least I do. Especially Hotch." Reid looked at the open door as if Aaron was about to come in. "He's the easiest to read."

"True." You both laughed but immediately hushed it because you remembered about sleepyheads downstairs. "Especially his mood."

Your coworker smiled and nodded his head as an agreement.

You both were going along very well, even too well sometimes, from Emily's point of view (good meaning). She really often has been telling you, that you and Spenc were acting like siblings.

"If you want, you can stay here." You offered when Reid started to get up from the ground, you didn't think what were you saying.

"I-...A-... I'll go downstairs. I have my stuff there." He looked hesitant and a bit embarrassed, especially his eyes were hesitant.

"Sure." You nodded and watched him leave the room. "Spenc."

Seconds after him leaving, you called after him and ran up to him.

"Yeah?" Asked Reid with confusion.

"Merry Christmas." Shy kiss was planted on Spencer's cheek before you turned around and disappeared behind the door to your room.

"Me-....merry Christmas." Whispered the man while touching the place your lips touched.

[darkfire359]

What could have been: sympathizing with Ed in season 2

I've talked before about how much I love Ed and all his complexity. I've written more fanfic about him and Izzy than any other characters, in my entire history of fandom. And unlike many people, I wasn't unprepared for the dark direction his arc took in season 2; I wanted him to commit MORE atrocities, and I happily made comparisons between him and another one of my favorite characters, Hannibal Lector.

But one of the key things I wanted after he committed atrocities was for him to feel bad about it. And I thought we'd see that! After all, S1 Ed was so tormented about killing his dad (who was abusive and violent towards) him that he never killed (directly) again! He was so broken up about trying to kill Stede in s1e6 that he ended up crying in a bathtub. Just like he cried in the window sill after committing all the kraken horrors in s1e10. It seemed like this was a guy scared of his own inner darkness, convinced he was a monster, who would go around saying things like "I'm not a good person" and "You were always going to realize who I am."

And so even when s2 went darker than anyone expected—when he cut off more of Izzy's toes, and shot him in the leg, and made crewmen fight to the death for experiencing love, and sailed the entire ship into a storm to murder-suicide his crew—I was still ready to accept all that moral ambiguity and give him a hug afterwards. Because of course, I figured that after Ed was brought out of that dark place and those suicidal urges, he would feel horrible remorse. How could he not?

I was looking forward to seeing him break down crying, convinced he was an irredeemable, unforgivable monster. (Which of course, would make it all the more touching when people inevitably did forgive him, and when he did redeem himself). Maybe Ed would even go too far with trying to atone, like in Mercy, one of my favorite post-s1 fics. Probably, I figured, Ed's quest for redemption would be one of the main themes in the second half of season 2.

So it was strange to watch e4, when Ed looked nothing but annoyed at everyone for chaining him up and banishing him, and then he went to hang out with his old friends like he'd done nothing wrong. When after the crew unanimously voted him out, Stede brought him back to the ship literally that same evening, and Ed saw no problem with that. Okay... maybe he's still processing?

Then e5 came, and that episode was about Ed's redemption. Yay! Except... Ed didn't seem to care? Other people made him wear the bag and the bell. He asked how long it'd take people to get over it, guessing "like a day." He gave an influencer-esque non-apology to the crew. He said "I took a man's leg" rather than calling Izzy by name. He literally doesn't remember the circumstances of pushing Lucius off the boat. He does ultimately give a real apology to Fang—for tormenting him years ago, rather than anything from his actual kraken era. I love e5 for the Izzy+Stede dynamic, but watching Ed be an unrepentant asshole here is painful. There is nothing about this that convinces me Ed wouldn't slide right back to being evil if Stede were to leave again.

And the thing is, it didn't have to be like this! We could have gotten Ed breaking down crying with guilt like in s1e6, and it would have made him much more sympathetic—not to mention the fact that Ed really is just an adorable cryer. Alternatively, we could have had some real deep diving about why Ed never apologizes (is he afraid of seeming weak?) or why he's so uncaring about others' pain (has he seen too many friends die over the years, to the point of going numb?)

By episode 6, it seems like most characters have moved on. Stede says something about Ed turning poison into positivity, which feels completely unearned. He pays for the party—but he'd previously tried to make the crew throw their cut of the loot into the ocean. He makes some attempts to best Ned and protect Stede, but Stede ends up saving the crew instead—from a pirate who only showed up in the first place because Ed was intentionally trying to piss him off. Ed is sad that Stede kills someone, and this would be a great time to again make Ed sympathetic! To have him talk about how he doesn't want that for Stede, because his own violence has weighed on him so deeply. But nope.

E6 does see Ed actually apologize to Izzy—and he's terrible at it. He's just like, "Sorry about your leg," makes no eye contact, and flees immediately afterwards. We do see some hints that this shitty apology isn't really indicative of Ed's true feelings, given how he has those flashbacks to the scenes of hurting Izzy seemingly haunting him; but it's very brief. It would be a great time to address Ed's horrific tendency towards conflict-aversion and avoiding awkward conversations in relationships—the same tendency that made s1 Ed never inform Izzy that the plan to kill Stede and the Revenge crew had changed. This would be another great opportunity to help us sympathize with Ed again—to have us see how it's not that he doesn't want to communicate these things, it's that these conversations are terribly stressful and anxiety-inducing for him. But nah, why would OFMD need to include those things for Ed?

E7 happens, and still nothing. If anything, there was a great opportunity for Ed to at least show himself to be a kind person to Stede—maybe nobly stepping in to save the day, even though he's annoyed that Stede's getting all this attention now. You know, like Stede did for him back in s1e5, when the situation was reversed. But nope, Ed runs off to be a fisherman, not having learned any of the earlier season's lessons about whims. He only stops being a fisherman because he's bad at it.

I was still hoping for something big in e8–some huge selfless, gesture that Ed would do to cover for all of his inability to do the little gestures. Ed is good at grand gestures! Swimming back to the ship after he left, then taking the Act of Grace in s1 was HUGE. Very selfless, very sweet! He could have done something like that for Izzy, Lucius, and the traumatized crew. Some kind of heroic gesture to help others more than himself. But nope. In some sense, Izzy dying is one of the greatest indications of Ed's wasted potential, because we narratively had a great opportunity for Ed to be able to save someone... but he didn't.

(Admittedly, Ed is not a complete dick here—he helps Izzy when he's limping, he says some genuinely apologetic stuff when Izzy's dying, and he finally gives Izzy his attention and care. But then after the funeral, he's still like "Well, that's that.")

It's so frustrating. It's not that I don't want to like Ed, or that I don't want to sympathize with him. I really, REALLY do! I don't even need Ed to successfully do anything to earn forgiveness! I'd take Ed trying and failing. I'd take him wanting to try, but being so convinced of his monstrousness that he never makes the attempt. But give me something. Anything other than the unexamined apathy that he has so much of the time.

The thing is, s2 lost the ability for Ed's mistreatment of people to be just another "of course he's violent, he's a pirate" quirk. They were pretty explicit about how abusive Ed was (Jim's comment in e1, the joke in e4 people assumed Ed had hit Stede) and how much he traumatized people (Lucius and the whole crew very clearly have PTSD in episodes 4 and 5). This is serious stuff, which he did to other main characters, which is going to make a lot of viewers look at him pretty harshly.

And that's manageable—Hannibal Lector managed to be most textbook-abusive asshole in the world, committing atrocities and generally being unrepentant left and right, and viewers STILL found him lovable and sympathetic. You can do that! But you need to:

a. make it clear that anyone with the relevant information calls them out for being awful, even multiple episodes later

b. make it clear that they care deeply and genuinely about their wronged loved ones

c. make them willing to actually make REAL sacrifices

I watched so many people start to dislike or outright hate Ed in season 2. It made me really sad. But I couldn't blame them for feeling that way. For all that Ed is supposedly one of the two protagonists in OFMD—a character whose mistakes should be the most understandable, whose mental state should be the most resonant—the show seemed to entirely drop the ball on writing him as such.